Immediate and Forever
by Seventh Chance
Summary: Caught between logic and a town's superstitions, Molly is assigned to the case of helping the mysteriously deteriorating Castanet Island. When she finds herself growing close to two men of opposing realities, the thin line between fantasy and actuality begins to blur.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"Let me get this straight: you want me to relocate to an island – by _myself_ – and attempt to revive a farm in a place you're describing to me as essentially _unlivable_?" A girl was leaning on her boss's desk, staring down with a look of disdain. Across the wooden separation, a portly man with flossy white hair and pink-stained cheeks was twirling a fountain pen in his hand. The office was cramped, the walls adorned with photos of his prized hunting beagle and the occasional portrait of his wife, sullen and frayed, of which Molly knew he would have preferred to be photos of swimsuit models.

"Yes, Molly. That's part of it." The pen successfully made four rotations around the side of his hand.

She swallowed the groan of frustration that threatened to escape from her lungs. "But Phil, why _me_?" Molly Larsson could help but wonder if this was intended to be some kind of cruel punishment for a wrong she had committed and somehow couldn't remember.

The man sighed, finally putting down the pen long enough to turn his attention to the young woman in front of him. His hands shuffled a small stack of paper absentmindedly on the desk, desperate the bus themselves. "Because you're qualified for the job: you have a degree in Environmental Science, you get along well with people, and your reports always come in on time."

Molly collapsed into the chair across from the man, shaking her head in disbelief. "But… I've never been assigned to an operation like this by myself before," she said quietly. Her fingers had taken to nervously picking at the hem of her navy cotton dress. Could he not have picked someone else – someone more qualified than a fresh-faced girl barely out of college? Or was the job just so insufferable that her boss wasn't willing to subject any of the higher-ups to the case? SIHA was an agency Molly had dreamed of working for since she was young; an odd dream for a child, but Molly had always been a little strange compared to other kids. It hadn't been long since her part-time internship had turned into a full-time job and to jeopardize her standing with the agency would mean a lifelong dream shattered.

"Listen, you're new to the company and we want to see what you can do. Think of it as sort of a…. test." The cheerful inflection of his statement struck a nerve in Molly but she bit her lip to keep the sour words from coming out. Phil then sighed, opening a manila folder and thumbing through the pages that were paper-clipped inside. "The place is called 'Castanet Island'. It's a very small island but they seem to be the only ones in the area suffering from this… epidemic."

The girl's face etched with concern at the dramatic choice of words. "What _exactly_ in wrong with the place?"

Phil flipped through a few more sheets of paper. "Hm. Yes, well… It says here that the island is experiencing a sort of 'perpetual environmental stagnation'."

"Specifically?" Molly raised a brow. Phil glanced up at the girl before dropping the folder back on the desk in front of her. Molly picked it up hesitantly, looking down at the page. "'This island has been experiencing unusual weather conditions characterized by the fluctuation between thick clouds and heavy storms.'" Molly read aloud, "'This island has not reported direct sunshine lasting more than several hours at a time for almost four months. There is reported to be no measurable amount of wind. Temperature inconsistencies pertaining primarily to fire are noted and unrelated to altitude. Soil pH levels have made growing the crops necessary to sustain the island impossible.'" Molly stared at the page for a long time, trying to absorb everything she had just read. How was this possible?

"The farm you're going to be staying at is a decent size. We're going to send you some livestock; the ranch on the island is having a difficult time taking care of their animals with the environmental conditions and they aren't able to produce enough dairy products to sustain the island."

Molly flipped through the pages of notes on the island's case. "And the crops?"

"Almost impossible to grow. With the soil and the lack of sun… They're in really bad shape, Molly. We've been importing humanitarian aid to them for almost two months now. They're barely surviving over there."

Molly sighed heavily, closing the folder and looking up to meet her boss's gaze. "And nobody can figure out any reason why this is happening to them?"

"Absolutely none. It escapes logic completely."

"What exactly does my assignment entail?"

"You'll be sent to the farm to care for and tend to the livestock we provide. We will send you with supplements for the soil to use in attempt to grow some crops. We want you to monitor the environmental conditions but also the conditions of the people living there. We're hoping that somehow you can get to the bottom of what's causing this bizarre phenomenon while simultaneously producing some goods to help sustain the town. We send them aid but… With the recent string of massive earthquakes, we really don't have much to send over there. The people on this island are going hungry and they need help." Phil was leaning on his desk, staring at the young woman and speaking with such a grave seriousness that Molly's heart felt heavy with burden. "This is an important job."

Molly nodded, tucking a lock of her thick auburn hair behind her ear. "You really think I can manage this on my own though, Phil? I just turned twenty-three last week…" She stared down into her lap self-consciously. She was still so young. How could she be expected to help such a troubled place on her own?

"If we feel that you need assistance, we might be able to send out another worker. It's just, with the way things are, you know we don't have people to spare right now. Maybe if things change –"

"I know, I know. I'll do the best I can, Phil."

Phil smiled earnestly, "I know you will." Pulling out one of his desk drawers, he dug around for a moment before producing a black leather-bound book, tossing it in front of her. "This is a blank journal. I want you to keep detailed notes on your time there and the things you see and experience. The journal will be private to you but we'll need official weekly reports, of course. We also want soil samples and photographs of the conditions over there."

Molly nodded in understanding, picking up the blank journal. "Anything else I need to know?"

Phil hesitated, leaning back in his chair. "Well…" He started, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the clock mounted on the wall above an especially unappealing photo of his wife, her lips curled into a sort of snarling smile, "This town believes heavily in a deity they call the 'Harvest Goddess'. Many of them think that the current state of the island is related to her."

Molly raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Oh… that's… weird. Is it like… a religious thing?"

Phil chuckled, shrugging one shoulder. "From my understanding, kind of. More of a spiritual thing, I guess. But _try_ to be sensitive to their beliefs, alright?" He shot her a stern look of warning.

"Of _course_, of course." She rolled her eyes, "Now, when do I leave exactly?"

"May 9th."

Molly scratched her cheek in thought. Her eyes suddenly went wide with realization. "That's… That's in ten days!"

Laughing, he shrugged. "Yup."

She sighed, burying her face in her hands for a moment. All the things she'd need to take care of, all the arrangements she'd need to make before her sudden departure began whirling through her mind. "How long am I assigned there?" She asked, words muffled through her hands.

"Six months."

Pulling her face from her palms, she picked up the manila folder with the case report and her designated journal, standing from the uncomfortable wooden chair she had been seated in. "Alright then. I guess I have a lot of things to sort out." She mumbled, heading for the door. As she turned the doorknob, she lingered in the doorway for a moment, looking back at her boss. "Hey Phil?"

"Hm?"

"I don't know anything _about_ agriculture."

Phil chuckled, shaking his head. "Well golly, Miss Molly, you've got ten days to find out."

It was two o'clock in the afternoon when Molly slipped back into her modest apartment. She kicked her black satin flats off her feet at the door, making her way back to her bedroom. A half-naked young man was still asleep in her bed, his masculinity notably detracted by the frilly lilac blanket that was covering his body. Molly quietly seated herself on the edge of her bed, leaning over the man to brush a lock of his dark brown hair that was covering his face. He had been drooling on her pillow; she didn't find this endearing.

"Ian…" she said softly, gently nudging his bare shoulder. "_Ian_."

The young man let out a soft groan, rolling onto his back and squinting his brown eyes against the light to stare up at the girl.

"Morning, beautiful." His voice was hoarse.

Molly laughed, "Ian, sweetheart, it's two in the afternoon."

Ian rubbed his eyes sleepily before adjusting himself into a sitting position on her bed. He studied her face for a long moment.

"What's wrong?" His brows had furrowed, the corners of his lips pulled in a frown.

Molly sighed heavily, staring down in her lap. "I'm being sent out."

"Oh…" was all he could muster.

"Yeah," she responded dryly.

"How long?"

"Six months."

"To where? Are you being assigned to one of the earthquake reliefs?"

Molly shook her head, "No… To an island. To live on a _farm_. The place is in pretty bad shape and no one knows why so they're sending me over to do some observational reports and testing and agricultural work." She was chipping away at her red nail polish, not wanting to look him in the eyes. "I'm going alone."

He sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "So… Then what? What about us?"

The girl shrugged one shoulder. "I mean, we always knew this was going to happen…" Her words were quiet, awkward.

"Well, this is bullshit is what it is."

Molly scoffed, "Excuse me? This is my _job_. Working for this agency is my _dream_, Ian, you know that. Not many people get this chance and it's an _honor_ that they would entrust a case like this to me! This is my one big chance to really prove myself to them – it could be my _only chance_! I'm not just going to quit my job – and besides, I want to help these people. You should be happy for me, Ian!" She was glaring at him, arms crossed against her chest.

"I'm not," he muttered, staring out the window at the view of the city.

"You're being a child!" she snapped, standing from the bed. "This was always the deal – you always knew this was the way it was – and now you're throwing a fit because you won't have a place to sleep until ungodly hours of the day and a fridge full of free food that _I_ paid for." She picked up his shirt from her floor, throwing it at him.

He stared at her in disbelief. "Nice to see mega-bitch coming out to play." He said sarcastically as he pulled his shirt over his head.

She groaned in frustration, "I'm just so sick of this! Of all of this! I was just told that I'll be living on a _farm_ for six months and I'm feeling a_ bit_ overwhelmed and you're being a total prick about it. Ian, I'm a woman with 'big girl' responsibilities now and I can't keep taking care of both of us, ok? I've tried to make it work for all this time but now I need to go do what I need to do and I need you to properly fuck off if you're going to kick and scream and fight me about it, alright?"

Ian was pulling his jeans on, glowering at his girlfriend. "You don't care about anyone but yourself, you know that?"

Molly's jaw dropped. She collapsed back onto the bed, staring up at him in disbelief. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response, Ian."

He shook his head, visibly grinding his teeth in frustration. "Have fun living in that shithole." He muttered, turning and walking out of the bedroom.

"Yeah? Well… Well… Take that stupid cat sculpture you gave me on your way out! It's ugly!" Molly had never been good at fighting with people. She heard the front door slam a few seconds later. She rolled onto her stomach, burying her face in her frilly comforter and letting out a shrill, muffled scream in frustration, tears beginning to squeeze from her eyes.

Excitement and nervousness swelled inside her in the coming days, brewing together into poison of self-doubt. Her nine remaining days were spent researching, taking extensive notes on agriculture and getting her affairs in order. There were her parents to break the news to, her landlord to contact, and a life's worth of possessions to pack away into old cardboard boxes. Molly wouldn't be bringing much with her to the island; all she needed was her clothes, her beloved old typewriter for case reports, her camera, and a few personal belongings for the sake of her sanity. The rest of her boxes were moved to her parent's house in the suburbs just outside the city in which she lived and grew up in. Saying goodbye to them was the hardest part: her mother wailed unabashedly, squeezing her daughter so tightly that Molly feared she might burst a vessel in her eye. Her father shed a few, much more reserved tears, reminding her how very proud they both were of her.

Saying goodbye to her friends was an easier task. Molly had always been particular about the company she kept, so one 'girl's night out' with her three closest friends – Grace, Victoria, and Emily – to their favorite restaurant to make the announcement was all it took. Molly waited until the moment was ripe; two bottles of wine had been emptied between them and the conversation had turned from light gossip to more serious matters. Grace cried at the news. Emily sat in disbelief. Victoria, being the closest to Molly and the most empathetic of the three, was elated for her friend.

"You will write us, won't you?" Grace blubbered through her girlish sobs.

"Of course! And it's only six months, right?"

"What about Ian?" Emily had been stabbing the mash potatoes on her plate absentmindedly, sending little bits of the white goop flying off her plate.

"Well… We sort of, you know… Broke up." Molly shrugged dismissively. All three of her friends gasped.

"But Molly! You guys were together for almost a year! And he's so… so… _good looking_!" Grace was mopping up her tears with a satin kerchief.

Molly laughed, "Yeah, I know… I really care about him but he was kind of a lazy tosser. And he got mad when I told him I was assigned to a case! He should have been happy for me, but he's too selfish to be happy for anyone else. Besides, he was starting to get under my skin months ago." Molly sighed, leaning forward on the table.

"What's this place you're going to like?" Victoria could barely contain her excitement for her friend; Molly would be getting to help people in need and simultaneously get the adventure she had always wanted.

"It's a pretty small island. They're experiencing a weird environmental phenomenon that's making sustaining themselves virtually impossible. I'm going to be living on an old farm, doing my observations and interviews, and trying to figure out the cause of everything. I also have to ensure that the aid we're sending is being distributed properly and whatnot."

"Wow…" Grace was staring dreamily at her friend.

"So, are there going to be any boys on the island?" Victoria smirked with one eyebrow raised.

Molly laughed, "Oh, jeez, I'm sure they're all _farm boys_!"

Emily shrugged, "That can be kinda hot too, maybe?"

They all laughed.

Morning came much too quickly. Molly wheeled her suitcase through the tiny apartment, taking a few moments to glance out the window at the view of the concrete jungle with its high-rise buildings, perpetual traffic jams, and the bustle of too many people all going in different directions. She sighed, squeezing an old, raggedy stuffed bunny whose nose had been loved off and whose green fur had gathered more than a few stitches over the years to keep its fluff contained. She lingered in the doorway of the apartment for some time, staring back at the emptiness that mirrored that day she had first gotten the key, excitedly rushing in to see the place for the first time. She felt a sort of sadness, but also an excitement layered between the melancholy.

She boarded her plane, a grown woman with her childhood stuffed toy tucked safely under her arm like some kind of lifeline to her life in that city. _'Six months'_, she kept repeating to herself. _'I can do this! It's only six months'_.

The plane took off before her heart had resolved, but somewhere on that five hour flight the heaviness that weighed on her lifted as she thumbed through the manila folder, staring down at an aerial photo of Castanet Island.


	2. Chapter 1: Beneath the Shadow

**Chapter One**  
><strong>Beneath the Shadow<strong>

The boat was drifting listlessly across the dark, choppy surface of the water. After two plane rides – four hours and two hours, respectively – Molly found herself paired with boat a Captain, the likes of her old stuffed rabbit who'd been loved a few years too many still clutched in her weary hands. Her excitement had kept her from sleeping but the jet lag from the flights had left her body in a state of perplexity, caught between the desire to sleep and a restless mind. Fortunately for her, the boat ride was a short one. She sat in the ship pilot house, alone with the old man with the captain's hat and the peculiar sideburns who had introduced himself as 'Pascal'. He was staring off at the endless ocean that seemed to stretch into infinity before them, pensively silent as he steered the old vessel.

"What's that?" Molly spoke suddenly, standing from her seat to join him by his side. She was pointing, half terrified, at what looked like a cluster of black storm clouds, viciously bloated in the distant sky.

Pascal chuckled nervously, "That, m' dear, is Castanet Island: our destination."

The girl's jaw dropped in disbelief. She leaned forward over the dashboard of various gauges and switches, squinting as if this would somehow allow her to better see the quickly approaching island.

"Is it always like that?" She looked over at the old captain who nodded somberly in response.

"Those clouds haven't left in months… They break every once in a while, but never for very long."

The sight was becoming clearer as the distance between the island and the ship closed: the side of the island they were approaching was littered with colorful buildings, nestled in the rising crescendo of a hill. The entire town was shadowed by the thick, black clouds that loomed over the island, overextending out several miles on all sides. It was the most peculiar thing: the weather was warm and the sun was shining high in the sky on that lovely summer afternoon, yet the island was shadowed by the motionless dark cluster in the sky, hanging like some kind of sinister umbrella.

"How is this possible?" Molly whispered breathlessly, trying to take in what she was seeing. It didn't make sense. Scientifically, logically… What she was seeing was impossible. Running back over to her bag, she set her beloved stuffed rabbit down, opening her luggage and pulling out her camera. Back at the window, she captured a few pictures of the menacing clouds just as the boat was engulfed in the massive shadow it was casting. All at once, she noticed something else extremely unusual: the water below them had smoothed considerably, losing the natural roughness characteristic of the surface of ocean water. It was as if the boat was sailing over black glass.

The young woman tugged at the sleeve of the old man's long coat, "What's wrong with the water?"

Pascal chuckled uneasily, "The water surrounding the island has become almost stagnant. We've only been getting winds in bursts lately. "

"This is outstanding…" she murmured as she lifted her camera to take a few pictures of the water's surface.

"Almost there," the captain announced after a few moments.

Indeed they were beginning to pull into the single small wooden dock protruding from the island. Molly returned to her luggage, tucking her camera safely away along with her old stuffed animal. Nothing screamed _'I'm here to save your island!_' quite like a twenty-three year old girl boasting a stuffed rabbit.

As the boat docked, Molly straightened out her dark navy coat over her black denim jeans, lifting a hand to fumble with the short, messy ponytail her auburn hair was pulled back into. She felt a surge of nervousness swell in her stomach. _'This is it. This is really it. I can do this! I know I can. I'm prepared for this. I've done my research and-'_

"Do you really think you'll b'able to help this island?" Molly's internal motivational speech had been interrupted by the weathered captain. She looked up at his melancholy yet hopeful blue eyes through her bright, excited brown gaze.

"I-I'm going to try," her confidence faltered.

Pascal nodded in understanding, reaching out to give the girl's arm a gentle squeeze through her long tailored coat. "G'luck, dear. I know this island will appreciate your bein' here." He forced what he could of a reassuring smile which Molly mimicked with matching feigned sincerity.

She picked up her black bag, making her way out of the pilot house of the vessel and taking her first step onto the wooden dock.

"Oh, the town's prolly in a meetin' up at the church up the hill right 'bout now," Pascal called with his head poking out of the door of pilot house. Molly turned and nodded to him in understanding.

She looked around, eyes wide with curiosity. It was warm outside, despite the shadow from the clouds overhead. It wasn't raining and the air was thick and slightly humid. There was no ambient surge and retreat of the water lapping at the shore or licking at the wooden beams of the dock. She looked back at the boat, rocking just ever so gently in the water. _'How strange.'_ She walked down the dock, her dark grey boots eventually meeting cobblestone. Strolling leisurely through the town, Molly took in the sight of the different brightly colors shops which were being robbed of their cheery demeanor by the shadow cast from the clouds overhead. The town was completely desolate, silent save for the sound of distant voices up the hill. Setting down her bag for a moment, Molly pulled the carefully folded map from her pocket. She glanced it over, spotting the location of her farm circled in a messy scrawl of red marker. Taking a deep breath, she picked her black suitcase back up and started off in the appropriate direction.

The farm was beautiful: messy and a rather rundown but quite expansive and undeniably charming. She ambled her way up to the front porch, withdrawing a small silver key from the pocket of her navy coat and unlocking the door. She was greeted with the scent of musty books and pine wood as she stepped into the house. It was small. The walls were adorned with a tan wall paper and a dark wood paneling. The floors were a dark hardwood and the green curtains were pulled back to let what little light there was outside seep into the room. The bed in the corner was fairly large and looked quite tempting to the young woman in her current state of exhaustion – but there was no time to sleep. She walked over to the wooden dining table in the center of the room, setting her bag down. Several boxes of necessities she had sent previously were stacked by a large bookshelf full of dusty books which she quickly noticed primarily pertained to farming and agriculture.

"Well, I suppose this is it…" she murmured quietly to herself as she took it all in. Glancing down at a small, feminine watch around her slender wrist, she sighed. It was twelve past noon. Turning to check her reflection in a small mirror beside the door, she adjusted her thick bangs. Might as well look cute when the island realizes that a government-run agency had sent over a mere child to try and help them, right?

Molly found her way up to the church with the aid of her map. The nervousness ebbed and flowed inside her as she climbed her way to the courtyard outside of the large building. One of the doors was propped open, the sound of a man's voice from inside reaching her ears. She could see the backs of people standing inside; it seemed pretty full. She bit her lip anxiously, lingering at the opposite side of the courtyard which was patterned with different colored bricks. Catching sight of something in the corner of her eye, she turned her head to see the back of a man leaning over the railing that overlooked the ocean. He was puffing away at a cigarette, the smoke haloing around his light, reddish-brown hair in the unusually breezeless air. Molly approached him slowly. He was wearing a dark pair of jeans and a black button-up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his elbows, exposing his slightly tanned arms. A purple apron was draped over his front, tied neatly in the back. He glanced over at the girl who stood a good eight inches shorter than him. His eyes were a peculiar shade of blue, flirting with violet.

"Hi," she murmured as she took her place next to him at the railing.

He raised an eyebrow critically at the girl who had appeared beside him. "It's not often we get vacationers around here lately," he spoke in a disinterested drawl.

Molly laughed nervously, shaking her head. "I'm not a vacationer. I'm an aid worker assigned to this island. I just got here and Pascal told me everyone would be up at the church."

He stared at her with a look of bemusement, taking a long drag on his cigarette. "Impossible. You look even younger than me. How old are you?" His brows had furrowed with a mix of skepticism and accusation.

"I'm twenty-three." There was a notable defensiveness in her tone.

"You _are_ younger than me," he drawled, seeming to have become annoyed with her answer.

"I'm… sorry?" she muttered awkwardly, staring off in the direction of the horizon. She could see just a few miles out where the clouds dissipated and the sun was shining brightly on the blue surface of the water. "It's… _always_ like this then?"

"Mhm. Has been for over three months," the man murmured as he stared off in the same direction, taking in the same unfathomable panoramic view.

Molly nodded in the direction of the church. "What's going on in there?"

The man glanced over then let out a dry chuckle. "Town meeting. Mayor Hamilton likes to hold them every Wednesday now. It's a depressing shit show in there. Everyone has the same thing to report each week: crops are dead, fire is weak, water is fucked, wind is practically nonexistent, there's no damn food. '_The Harvest Goddess has abandoned us_', he says," the man scoffed at this, shaking his head and adding bitterly, "Whatever_ that _means…"

Molly bit her lip, studying his face. The young man looked heavily burdened and noticeably depressed. A few locks of hair were pinned to presumably keep them from straying in front of his eyes. He caught her staring, her face etched with concern.

"You should probably go in," he said flatly, looking annoyed again.

"Oh, yeah…" Molly scratched her cheek self consciously, following behind the stranger as he flicked his cigarette over the railing and walked back to the open church.

The church was filled with people, young and old, seated in the long wooden pews and lining the walls of the old building. Molly lingered in the doorway, trying to avoid any attention as she watched the melancholy young man stroll right down the center isle of the church and take his seat on the end of one of the pews in the front row, beside a girl with a long blonde ponytail. At the front of the church stood a short, portly, and almost comical old gentleman. An upside-down wooden crate was under his feet to give him enough leverage to see his audience over the podium he was standing behind. Molly assumed this man must have been the mayor. Glancing around the room, she took in the sight of all the townsfolk. There were noted expressions of anguish and sadness on many of their faces; melancholy hung thick in the air.

"Moving on to the next order of business," the mayor was speaking in an unusually cheerful voice that Molly could tell was forged, "Tomorrow another aid shipment is due to arrive!"

Glancing over Molly spotted a peculiar looking man lingering in the back corner of the church, just a few feet away from her and almost hidden in shadow. He had silver hair, tanned skin and wore a highly unusual ensemble. Molly could see on the cheek facing her, what looked to be a white tattoo under his right eye…

"Molly, why don't you come up here?" Molly shifted back to focus, staring at the mayor who's voice she had been drowning out. All at once everyone's eyes were on her. She felt all the color drain from her face. "You are Molly Larsson, correct?" the mayor called back hesitantly to her from his podium.

"Y-yeah," she stammered foolishly, ambling up the center isle of the church.

The mayor smiled warmly, stepping down from his wooden crate to allow her to address the townsfolk at the podium. Molly pushed the crate out of the way with the side of her foot, turning to stare at everyone. Oh God, she had always been terrible at public speaking. All her usual confidence seemed to go down the drain the moment she was put on the spot in a room full of strangers.

"Hi," she paused to clear her throat, "um, my name is Molly Larsson. I was sent here by an organization called SIHA. I'm going to be living on the farm outside of town for the next six months. I'm going to be tending livestock to supplement the island's food demand and attempt to grow crops with some specially formulated soil to see if it's possible in the island's current… _state_. Uh, I have also been assigned to monitor the environmental conditions and interview some of you in order to compose a series of reports to send back to our specialists to try and figure out the cause of all this and what we can do to solve it." Molly smiled meekly at the blank and unimpressed stares she was being met with by the townsfolk.

"Yes, well then, let's all give Molly a nice warm welcome, hm?" The mayor smiled as Molly stepped away from the podium. There were rather unenthusiastic claps in the audience. Retreating as fast as she could back to the farthest wall of the church, she bowed her head, trying not to attract any more attention to herself.

The meeting ended and the people all spilled into the church courtyard. Molly walked with the mayor down the hill towards the Town Hall. He was prattling on about the town's glory days as he waddled along beside her. They paused outside of the Town Hall building.

"Phil – what a _lovely_ gentleman – told me that your livestock will be arriving in about four, perhaps five, days? I believe it was to be two cows, one goat, three chickens, and two ducks – to start that is. He said they'd be sending more if they have any to spare after you get your bearings on the farm."

Molly smiled meekly, nodding.

"Oh, Chase!" The mayor had lit up suddenly, drawing the attention of the young man Molly had conversed with outside the church who had been innocently walking by the pair.

"Yes…?" He slowed his pace reluctantly, raising a brow at Mayor Hamilton.

"Why don't you show this young woman around, hm?"

Chase looked hesitant and shook his head, "But Mayor, I have-"

"Nonsense!" Mayor Hamilton chuckled before he could even finish his protest, "I'm sure Molly would love a tour of our island."

Molly bit her lip. She neither wanted to impose nor frankly wanted to be paired with a young man who seemed so utterly agitated by her presence. The mayor seemed to have other plans.

"Alright…" Chase drawled finally, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms against his chest.

"Excellent! I have a lot of paperwork to get back to." He turned to the young woman, "Molly, why don't you come see me here at the Town Hall tomorrow to go over some important business?"

She nodded, "Of course."

Waving, the portly old mayor retreated into the Town Hall. Molly turned back to look at the young man.

"Come on, then," he said flatly.

Chase led her through Harmonica Town, pointing out each shop and giving her vague descriptions of the people who lived and worked in each little house and store. Molly listened intently, trying to make note of who worked where.

Eventually they lingered outside one house.

"You probably shouldn't go around here..."

Molly glanced up at him curiously, "Huh? Why not…?"

Chase crossed his arms against his chest. "A young man lives here. He claims to be a wizard." He spoke matter-of-factly.

Her brows furrowed, "What? A _wizard_?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but… I just… I guess I don't understand." She scratched her cheek, looking back at the house.

"Nobody sees him very often. He likes to keep to himself. He hardly ever speaks to anyone." Chase was already walking away as he spoke, moving on to the next location of interest.

'_A wizard?_' Molly kept repeating in her head, trying to take in the strangeness of this claim.

They came full-circle through Harmonica Town, ending in front of the Brass Bar.

"You might as well meet my coworkers. I'm the chef here." Chase pushed through the door of the bar. The place was desolate save for three people: a gruff looking man seated behind the counter, a blonde girl with low-cut blouse and a blonde ponytail who was looking especially bored and perched on one of the wooden tables, and an exotic looking woman who was practicing an unusual dance on a small stage to a cultural music that was filling the near-empty bar. The blonde girl perked up as she saw the two enter.

"Who's your new girlfriend, Chase?" she laughed.

"Shut it, Kathy," Chase rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"Molly," the girl announced despite knowing that the blonde already knew her name; she had seen the girl sitting beside Chase in the front pew of the church.

"Kathy Talbot," she took Molly's hand in a surprisingly firm handshake, "That man back there is my dad, Hayden. He owns this place," she then nodded in the direction of the woman dancing on the stage, "And that's Selena. She just moved here recently from our neighboring Toucan Island to start dancing in our bar."

"Horrible timing, really," Chase added with a sigh. Molly gave an uneasy chuckle.

"Chase, will you look over the revised menu with me real quick?"

"I don't know what the point is. It's not like anyone comes around here anyway. Or like I can make any decent food with the fire the way it is…" He was bitter.

Kathy scowled, "Humor me, asshole?"

"Fine," Chase huffed before turning to Molly. "Just… wait here a second?"

Molly nodded, watching the two walk over to the bar. Her gaze settled on Selena who was so engrossed in her practice that she had either failed to notice Molly or had simply chosen to ignore her. She was a wildly curvaceous young woman and wearing an elaborate green, gold, black, and blue outfit that left very little to the imagination. Her fiery red hair seemed to take on a life of its own as she danced. Her movements were strange but beautiful – unlike anything Molly had ever seen before.

When Chase returned, Molly had barely noticed him beside her. After a few moments, she lifted a hand to tug at the sleeve of his black dress shirt.

"Chase…?" she murmured meekly.

"Mm?" Chase looked down at her, confused.

"She's not… Like… Going to start taking off her clothes, is she?" Molly asked in almost a whisper, still transfixed.

Chase glanced at Selena and then looked back at Molly for a long moment, realizing she was serious. He laughed.

"No, Molly. This isn't _that_ kind of bar."

Molly looked up at him, releasing the sleeve of his shirt. It was the first time she had seen him smile.

"Alright, just making sure..."

There were two kinds of silences shared between people: the kind of silence that was pensive and relaxing, and the uncomfortable kind of silence. With Chase it was the uncomfortable kind of silence, the kind you try to fill with small talk and trivialities. Chase led her to Flute Fields next. It was a long walk from the town on the bay to the withering fields. She tried to ask Chase questions, the kinds she hated when people asked to her: frivolous questions. How old was he? When did he come to the village? How long had he been cooking for? Working at the bar? Was the town different in the fall? The winter? The spring? Chase dodged most of these questions, especially the ones about himself. He didn't ask anything about her.

Finally, "You have an accent."

"Excuse me?" Molly looked up from the dirt path.

"You talk weird."

Molly frowned, shaking her head stubbornly. "What are you talking about? I do not."

"Say 'purpose'."

"Purpose."

"See, you talk weird," he repeated flatly.

They arrived at Flue Fields. Chase pointed out the farm, his house, the ranch, the dense Fogue Forest, the watermill, and another house belonging to a young man apparently by the name of 'Julius'. The tour was short as Chase seemed to be growing more and more impatient at his undesired task.

He led her all the way to the Garmon Mine District; this time Molly didn't even attempt to fill the silence that settled between them. As they were heading back towards the bridge after completing the tour, Molly slowed her pace between the Carpenter's Shop and the General Store.

"What's that?" She pointed in the direction of an overgrown path, looking curiously up at her petulant tour guide.

"It leads back to this giant old tree. The town calls it the 'Goddess Tree'. Legend has it that that's where the Harvest Goddess lives. The thing is practically dead though." He spoke so matter-of-factly about things that seemed so outlandish to her.

"Oh," she mumbled simply, resuming her spot beside him as he escorted her back to her new farm.

There wasn't much she could do for the remainder of the evening so she settled in to unpacking the few boxes of her belongings: putting her clothing away neatly into a small wooden dresser, her old black typewriter was set up on the dining table, and she littered her nightstand with the few framed photographs she had brought from home. They consisted of pictures of her with her parents, pictures of her with her three best friends, and a picture of her and Ian – mostly out of habit.

When she was all unpacked, she seated herself at her new dining table with her black bound journal and a pen to try and articulate everything she had seen and experienced that day before it slipped from her memory forever.

**Author's Note**: The state of Castanet Island is obviously much more dramatic than it is in the game and the cause/solution will be different from in-game as well.

Please review if you're following along so I know!


	3. Chapter 2: Fables and Fairy Tales

**Chapter Two**  
><strong>Fables and Fairy Tales<strong>

"_Molly… Molly…" Someone was calling her name softly. The voice was distant, weak, but seemed to come from all sides. Molly looked around her but all she could see was darkness; there was nothing in front of her, behind her, or even below her feet. She took a step forward and her feet connected with something resembling solid ground though she couldn't seem to distinguish it._

"_Hello?" she called out with hesitation, taking each step gingerly as if she half expected to fall into nothingness at any given moment._

"_Molly…" the voiced cried again, unusually high-pitched. She couldn't decipher if it was coming from a man, woman, or perhaps even a child._

"_I'm right here!" she called back frantically, "Where are you? I can't see anything!" _

_The young woman came to a halt as staircase slowly began to materialize in front of her. She bit her lip, carefully climbing the stone steps just as each appeared. It seemed like it was never going to end; she climbed and climbed until her lungs felt like that might give out inside her chest. Tears began to pool in her soft brown eyes._

"_I don't know where you are!" she screamed as she stopped on one of the steps. They continued to appear before her, each one looking the same as the one before._

"_Help me, Molly…" the faint voice was pleading now with a desperation that made Molly's heart sink._

"_I'm trying!" There were warm tears marking paths down her cheeks. She resumed her ascent up the steps, shrouded in darkness and silence, save for the echoing sound of her footsteps and the pounding of her heart in her ears. _

_All at once, the stairs came to an abrupt end. Molly stumbled as she came to a sudden halt. Eyes widening, Molly stared in disbelief at what was before her: barely visible through the darkness, she could make out the figure of a tall, muscular man. Flowing wisps of long hair surrounded him, moving in snake-like motions despite the lack of any breeze surrounding them. What little of his hair that danced on the edge of where the darkness tickled the light appeared to be the color of fire. Molly opened her mouth to speak but the words got lost in her throat. She couldn't see who was in front of her, but almost didn't even want to know._

"_Molly," the dark figure bellowed, his voice strong and powerful as if in agreement with his overwhelming presence. He was certainly not the owner of the voice Molly had been chasing before. "Wake up."_

* * *

><p>Molly awoke with a sharp gasp, sitting up in her new bed. There was a dull ache in her back and her head was pounding relentlessly. She groaned aloud and rubbed her eyes, shielding herself from the scarce amount of light that poured in through the cracks between the plush green curtains and the windows they were attempting to cover. She yawned sleepily, glancing over to the old clock on her nightstand, nestled between the pictures she had so carefully arranged. It was nearly 10 o'clock in the morning, though by the amount of light, it could have easily been mid-sunrise. She whined softly, flopping back down onto the warm mattress and curling up with her pillow as she closed her eyes to pondering her unusually distressing dream and wait for her headache to subside.<p>

It did, eventually, and the young woman pulled herself from the comfort of her sheets, ambling over to her dresser. It was her first official full day on Castanet Island and she knew she had a lot of work to do. Considering that her animals still wouldn't be in for another few days and her soil supplements were also in the post, the day would be dedicated to beginning her interviews with some of the townsfolk and beginning to gather information to be included in her first official report on the case at the end of the week. First up was Mayor Hamilton, as she had already promised him to meet at his office that morning to go over what he had referred to the previous day as 'important business' – whatever that meant. Molly pulled on a pair of dark jeans, a pair of grey boots, and a fitted long-sleeved black shirt. She adjusted her hair in the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth, leaving the locks down and tickling at her pale neck. Grabbing a blank notebook and a few pens, she tossed them in a small black bag as she slipped on a long red coat and buttoned it up. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she pushed her way outside.

The sky was grey and covered with clouds that look only slightly less aggressive than they had the day before. As she was looking up, a raindrop landed on her nose. She winced and scrunched it up, drying it with the back of her hand as she sighed. _'Great…'_ She grumbled internally before setting off in the direction of Harmonica Town. One thing Molly had noticed instantly about Castanet Island was how excruciatingly long it seemed to take to get from one point to another. She kicked along idly at the dirt path as she walked, wondering why Castanet hadn't implemented cars. Perhaps she was just jaded after living so many years in the hustle and bustle of such a fast-paced city. At least on Castanet it was safe to walk by oneself.

By the time Molly reached the Town Hall, the rain had begun to fall at a steady pace – not enough to leave her soaked but enough for moisture to cling to her auburn hair. Stepping into the front room of the Town Hall, she hesitated, glancing around before walking up to the front counter. There was a young man seated behind it, busying himself with some very official-looking documents. He had ash blonde hair and was wearing a blue and green sweater.

"Excuse me?" she asked meekly.

He didn't look up.

"What?" he asked after a moment, gaze still transfixed on the papers in front of him.

"Um, I need to speak with the Mayor? I was supposed to come by to see him today."

The young man finally looked up. His bright blue eyes inspected the newcomer critically. "Father!" he called before dropping his gaze back to his paperwork. The portly old mayor's jovial face appeared in a doorway leading to a back office.

"Molly! Please, come in, come in!"

Molly smiled hesitantly before taking one last glance at the disinterested man behind the counter and making her way back to the mayor's small office. She took a seat, glancing over Mayor Hamilton's desk which was littered with stacks of paper, pens, clips, staplers, rolls of tapes, and various other objects one would anticipate to find on the desk of the mayor, though usually in a much more organized arrangement. Inspecting the walls of his office, she spotted a picture of what appeared to be the same stoic young man she had just encountered outside at the front desk. He looked only about ten years old in the framed photograph and was sitting beneath an oak tree, reading a large book.

"Who is that?" Molly pointed to the picture.

The mayor glanced over to it before exuding a jolly chuckle. "That's my son, Gill. You'll have to excuse him, he's a bit austere."

Molly stifled a giggle. How strange that such a cheerful, amiable gentleman could produce such a phlegmatic young man.

"Well, then! How did you sleep in your new house?" The mayor seemed as cheerful as ever.

Molly feigned a polite smile, "Oh, just fine. I had a weird dream though…"

The mayor seemed to go a bit somber. "Oh, yes… Those are common in this town lately."

Blinking, Molly cocked her head in a confused fashion, brows pulling together. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well," He started, trying to force a smile, "A lot of the townsfolk have been experiencing nightmares ever since… You know… Things started going _downhill_."

Molly was already shuffling hastily through her bag, pulling out her notebook and a pen. She opened it to the first page, jotting down a few notes. "Is that all they've been experiencing?" Her eyes were wide and excited.

Mayor Hamilton chuckled softly, "No, no. That's not it at all. I suggest you speak with Doctor Jin and Nurse Irene. They can give you a full report on the kinds of symptoms the people here have been experiencing."

Nodding in understanding, Molly fiddled idly with her pen. "Mayor Hamilton? Will you explain to me what it's been like since all this started?"

The mayor nodded somberly. "Certainly. It started about four months ago, when the clouds came."

"What was that like, when they came?" Molly interjected, beginning to scribble away at the pages of her notebook.

"It's as if they just appeared overnight. No one saw them coming. One minute it was sunny and the next we were shielded by this great mass of dark clouds."

"And then?"

"A few days later, the wind stopped. It was the most peculiar thing. Harmonica Town is typically very windy, what with being beside the ocean and all. But it just stopped! Every couple days someone feels a slight gust or two, but it's nothing like it used to be. We can't power our windmills without the wind!" Mayor Hamilton lamented, his demeanor faltering from its characteristic joviality.

"What about the water…?"

"Ah, yes, the water," Mayor Hamilton turned to stare wistfully out his office window in the direction of the vast, stagnant ocean that surrounded Castanet Island, "That's a fairly recent development. It's very odd. I've never seen anything like it before in my life." He said softly.

"Neither have I," Molly admitted as she stared down at the messy notes she had been taking.

"My dear girl, but you see things like this all the time! Do you not?" He looked surprised.

Molly hesitated. "No," she admitted, "this is something quite unlike anything I've seen in my work, Mayor."

The man looked disheartened by this. "Do you think you'll be able to help us? Do you think the Harvest Goddess will listen to you?"

Molly lingered on the question, opening her mouth to speak but not quite knowing what words she could possibly formulate in response.

"Mayor…" she started gently, glancing down into her lap with a mix of shame and confusion, "I'm just an aid worker. I'm here to collect data, write reports, and try to supplement your island's needs with the farm. I don't know what to do about the Harvest Goddess."

The Mayor sighed heavily, looking at the young woman in front of him with an expression filled with desperation. "But you_ must_."

Molly scratched her rosy cheek nervously. "I'll… I'll do what I can, Mayor." What else was she supposed to tell him?

He looked back out the window in mournful silence. Molly took this as her cue to leave. Closing her notebook slowly, she replaced it into her bag. Standing from the chair, she walked over to the door but paused as she reached for the door handle.

"Mayor?" She glanced back at him, her thick auburn locks bouncing around her face.

"Hm?"

"Who can tell me about the Harvest Goddess?"

The mayor chuckled at the question. "Go see Father Perry at the Chelsta Church. He's the town's pastor."

Molly nodded in understanding before pushing her way out of his office.

* * *

><p>The church was empty save for the pastor when Molly arrived. It was a beautiful building with high ceilings and stained glass windows depicting in intricate colors a woman in light robes with long, flowing green hair. As she stepped gingerly inside, her light footsteps echoed off the stone walls. The pastor looked up, offering the island's newest resident a warm smile. He was standing at the podium, an open book spread out before him.<p>

"Hello," he greeted calmly. He seemed so young for a pastor.

"Hello, Father Perry." Molly fabricated an uneasy smile. Churches had always made her nervous for one reason or another.

"How can I help you today, miss?"

Molly stood in front of the podium. "I… I was hoping you could tell me about the Harvest Goddess. If you have time, that is."

Perry seemed to perk up at the notion. He gestured towards the empty pews and exuded a chuckle. "Why yes, I have plenty of time. It's not often people come here, besides on Sundays and for confessionals. Here, wait here." The pastor left the podium, walking to one of the two side doors at the front of the church. Molly rocked on her heels idly, taking in the sight of the stained glass window closest to where she stood. The woman was beautiful. At her feet were what appeared to be six small fairies of varying pigmentations.

"Here we are." Perry was walking back over to the young woman, carrying a massive brown book that Molly would have guessed to easily be over a hundred years old. The pastor set the book on the podium and motioned for Molly to join him at his side. She complied as the man carefully opened the book which gave off a slight musty smell. The pages had taken on a slight yellow tint, presumably from old age. Perry flipped through several pages before landing on one which featured a large, intricate illustration of the Harvest Goddess in full color, spanning the entire page. Molly stared at it in awe. Behind the regal woman was a massive tree, flourished in bright green leaves and soft pink flowers.

"This is the Harvest Goddess," Perry announced proudly as his fingertips lightly grazed the illustration, "And this tree back here?" his fingers stopped on the tree in the background, "This is the Goddess Tree. It's located on our island."

"She's beautiful…" Molly murmured under her breath.

Perry chuckled, nodding in agreement.

"Where is the Goddess Tree?"

The pastor let out a heavy sigh. "There's a path leading to it from the Garmon Mine district. But the path is very long and has been overgrown for years. No one can get back there. Even I have tried over the years, but unfortunately I couldn't reach it." He stared down sadly at the page, fingers lightly tracing over the deity's supple lips.

Molly frowned. "Does everyone on Castanet Island worship the Harvest Goddess?"

Perry glanced over to the girl, a bit taken aback by the query. "Well, of course! At least, most of the people do... The Harvest Goddess watches over this island and keeps us safe from harm."

The young woman hesitated, gathering her thoughts and trying to choose her words carefully as not to offend. "Do you think… What's happening here has to do with the Harvest Goddess?"

The pastor nodded somberly. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I can't know for sure, but I believe she may be sick or in trouble. I send her my prayers, but I don't know what else to do." Perry hung his head in despair. Molly bit her lip, reaching out to gently touch the pastor's arm.

"You're doing the best you can. I'm sure she hears your prayers." It was all the reassurance Molly could offer him.

He glanced at her and gave a weak smile in gratitude.

"Father Perry, do you mind if I borrow this book?"

Perry looked down at the massive book sprawled out on the podium. He hesitated. "Well, I suppose that would be alright. Normally I wouldn't want it to leave the church, but since this is a bit of an extenuating circumstance and if you think it would help…"

Molly smiled. "I do."

The pastor returned the expression before closing the book and handing it to the young woman. "Then here you go."

Molly took the book, surprised by the weight of it. "Thank you, Perry. I really appreciate it. I'll bring it back soon, alright?"

The pastor nodded in agreement and Molly made her way out of the elegant church and back to Harmonica Town.

* * *

><p>The sun was already beginning to set far off in the distance by the time Molly reached the Choral Clinic. The rain had subsided, for which she was grateful. The book was weighing the young woman down as she pushed open the door, meeting gazes with an elderly woman behind the counter whose lightly wrinkled face seemed to be permanently etched with a frown.<p>

"Can I help you, dear?" the old woman croaked.

Molly smiled weakly. "Um, yes. I wanted to speak with the doctor for a bit, if he has time right now."

The old woman nodded slowly. "Yes, my grandson is in the back exam room doing paperwork, I believe. Go on ahead."

Molly complied and made her way to the back exam room. She knocked lightly on the door, awaiting a response.

"Come in," a man's voice called from the other side.

Molly adjusted the book in her hands before turning the doorknob and stepping inside. A man easily in his early thirties or perhaps younger, dressed in a doctor's coat, was seated at a desk, a stack of paperwork in front of him. His black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and a small pair of spectacles rested on his nose.

"Hello," he said curiously and adjusted his position in his seat.

"Hi. I'm Molly Larsson. The aid worker that's going to be living on the farm up the road?"

The doctor nodded in sudden understanding, "Oh, yes. I'm Doctor Jin Nakamura," he pushed himself from the desk, standing to properly shake the girl's hand with a firm grip, "I missed the meeting at the church yesterday, but I heard you made an introduction there."

Molly blushed at the humiliating memory. "Yeah…" she mumbled before taking a seat in one of the extra chairs.

"What can I help you with today, Ms. Larsson?"

The doctor seemed a serious man.

"I was hoping you could tell me a little about how the townsfolk's health has been since all these environmental changes." Molly had set the old book on the floor and was already digging her notebook and a pen out of her bag.

"Of course. I can't tell you the specifics of individuals though. Doctor-patient confidentiality, you know."

The young woman nodded in understanding. "Of course, of course. Whatever you can tell me is very much appreciated. I have to write my first case report at the end of the week and I just need to know the general symptoms the people here have been experiencing. Mayor Hamilton mentioned to me that nightmares have been increasingly common around here?"

The man nodded earnestly. "Yes, yes. I'm afraid so. People have been complaining of night terrors in addition to depression, fatigue, anxiety, weakness, insomnia, headaches…" Doctor Jin trailed off. Molly glanced up from the page she had been scribbling vigorously on.

"Is that it?" she blinked.

"Well, recently I've seen several patients who have begun to develop skin rashes."

Molly bit her lip. "Do you think that might be a side effect from lack of sun over these past months?"

The doctor shrugged, sighing. "It may be. I'm not too sure. I don't know how to even treat it. None of the medications we have here seem to be effective."

Scribbling down a few more notes, Molly closed her notebook. "I'll report this back to SIHA at the end of the week. Perhaps they can send over a couple new medications that can be tried on your patients." She offered what she could muster of a genteel smile, which Doctor Jin returned.

"Thank you, Ms. Larsson."

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "Please, call me Molly." Replacing the notebook back in her bag, she slung in over her shoulder and picked up the large book she had received from Perry.

"Doctor Jin?" she asked curiously as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Do you think all these environmental conditions are because of the Harvest Goddess?"

The serious doctor pondered the question for a moment before shrugging.

"I know that my patients are sick and I can't figure out why. But that, Molly, is all I can say for certain."

* * *

><p>Molly was enveloped in darkness as she stepped outside of the clinic. A shiver ran up her spine at the sudden, overwhelming likeness to the nightmare she had awoken from that morning. Even without sunlight, the breezeless air was still warm and rather humid, not unlike a typical summer evening. She looked up, not surprised to see a complete lack of stars – not even a single tiny pinprick of hope scattered in the sky; the clouds were surely covering them without the chance of even one glimpse of a clear night. Sighing, she fumbled down the cobblestone path by the light of the dim streetlamps that lined the town. Surely without them the place would be completely black.<p>

A figure caught her eye as she walked. She turned to see Chase, the cook from the brass bar, leaning against one of the metal poles that held the thick metal chains which served as a fence at the edge of the town. Molly approached slowly, smiling as he noticed her.

"Hi," she mumbled.

He was smoking another cigarette.

"Oh look, it's you," he drawled without even feigning interest. She looked out to the water before them of which he was gazing at. The blackness of the still ocean melted with the complete darkness of the sky above, ambiguous in their origin of meeting.

"Taking a break from work then?" She set her book and bag down on the cobblestone street, seating herself on the edge with her legs dangling down.

"Something like that," he chuckled dryly, "No one ever really comes around to the bar much more anyway. I never thought I'd say this, but I think everyone's too miserable to drink."

Molly smiled to herself though there wasn't any real humor in his words. He wasn't looking at her; they both just stared into the face of infinite emptiness. They sat in silence for a long time, pensive and despairing.

Finally, "Chase…?"

The man did not avert his gaze from what was before them. "Hm?"

"Do you believe in the Harvest Goddess and wizards and fairies and all that stuff?"

"You mean fairy tales?" he smirked, "No."

Molly stared into her lap for a long moment.

"Do you?"

She looked up to meet his stare: curious but not accusatory. She hesitated.

"No," she answered finally with noted confidence.

"A girl of reason. I like that."

Chuckling, he took a long drag on his cigarette as they both turned to stare back out at the blackness. It consumed them from all sides, swallowed them greedily into an abyss of nothingness. She found the sight almost nauseating; it made her feel small and fragmented, uncertain of everything besides her uncertainty. Her heart ached and she didn't know why.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Please review if you're following along or have any comments/suggestions for me! It's always appreciated.


	4. Chapter 3: The Fortune Teller

**Chapter Three  
>The Fortune Teller<strong>

Soft, tympanic footsteps ricocheted off the trunks of the ancient trees that sprung from the forest floor. The smell of moist moss and aging bark tickled Molly's nose as she ambled her way through the wooded labyrinth. Her camera – aged though staunch and gathering dust between its seedy gears – hung from around her neck. She had been in Fugue Forest for what easily might have been two hours, though as frustration began to overcome curiosity, it was beginning to feel like days. The forest was dim; the canopy of leaves above her, exceptionally dense, shielded out the light from the sky. What little light there was seemed intrinsic, almost as if the forest itself was emanating a warm, gentle glow. Molly took turn after turn, slowly and cautiously, examining each clearing as she came to it and attempting to infer whether or not she had been there before. It was a never-ending struggle to silence the voice in her head that was telling her she was walking in intricate circles.

"Maybe this is the way I'll go," Molly mused aloud to herself, a slight twinge of nervousness in her voice, "_'Aid worker found dead. Sent to help island and got lost in forest. Eaten by bears.'_" She gave an uneasy chuckle at the fabricated headline of her own demise.

Her thoughts were quickly ripped from her fate as one of her common-sensical shoes caught on an unseen root that pierced through the forest floor. The young woman came to the ground with a sickening _THUD_. Letting out a loud groan, she lifted a hand to her aching head, squeezing her eyes closed in sudden agony. Everything felt momentarily like it was spinning.

"Hey! You took a pretty bad tumble there!"

Molly opened her eyes, squinting to see where the cheerful observation had come from. Standing directly above her and staring down at the poor girl was a tall, slender young man with a bandana wrapped around his wispy blue hair. He was beaming with such amusement that Molly felt suddenly embarrassed by her spectacle.

"Yeah… I guess I tripped on something…" she mumbled awkwardly. Taking the man's outstretched hand, she was quickly jolted to her feet by his strong grip and stumbled momentarily to regain her balance.

"I don't see many people coming through here!" The man was leaning on a tall, slightly rusted axe. There was a small white bandage placed across the bridge of his nose, and his eyes – distinctly and unusually topaz in hue – were sparkling with uncontainable excitement. "Are you lost or somethin'?"

Molly brushed at some of the dirt she had accumulated on her jeans and dark grey jacket. Her hair was awry and she looked a complete mess.

"No," she insisted defensively before softening, "I mean… Yeah, maybe."

He laughed at this before jutting his hand, complete with a fingerless black glove, in front of her. Molly took it hesitantly and endured a long, vigorous handshake.

"The name's Luke McCarthy! Just call me your designated tour guide out of Fugue Forest," he grinned slickly.

"Molly Larsson," she recited uneasily.

Beginning in the opposite direction of which Molly had been coming from, she walked alongside the axe slinger.

"Oh yeah, you're that girl who's living on the old farm," Luke mused, his axe slung idly over one shoulder.

"Mhm," she nodded politely, glancing around to take in the beauty of the forest that she could now appreciate knowing she was no longer hopelessly lost, "What do you do?"

The eccentric man beside her paused to flex his muscles, "Why, I'm only the best carpenter in all of Castanet Island!"

Molly raised a skeptical brow, laughing, "You are?"

They resumed strolling at their leisurely pace.

He chuckled, shaking his head, "No, sadly not. But my father, Dale, is! I'm his apprentice, along with my friend Bo."

"So you spend a lot of time out here then?" she asked, taking care to step gingerly over the roots and stones below her as not to repeat her humiliating fall.

He nodded, "Yeah. I know this forest like the back of my hand!"

"That's impressive," she laughed, "What do you do out here?"

Luke shrugged. "You know… Hone my _incredible_ axe skills, that sorta stuff. What were _you_ doing out here?"

"I was taking pictures for my case report I have to do at the end of the week," she motioned towards the camera dangling from her neck, "I wandered in and I guess I got a bit lost…"

Luke laughed jovially. "So you're from the city then, huh? I bet you don't see many forests there!"

Nodding, "Yup. Born and raised."

"That's pretty incredible. I've never even been off the island…"

Molly glanced up to him in disbelief. "Really? _Never_?"

Luke chuckled, "Nope!"

Her gaze dropped back to the ground as she kicked along a small rock. She couldn't imagine living on an island like Castanet her entire life… She was so used to seeing hundreds of strangers each day just on her way to work in the city; how strange it would be to live in a place with only about forty inhabitants.

"Luke?" She abandoned the rock she had been kicking.

"Huh?"

"Chase said there's a wizard that lives in Harmonica Town. Is that true?"

Luke pulled a dramatic face. "Chase is a grumpy ol' stick-in-the-mud! Don't hang around him!"

Molly laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, come on! He's not so bad!"

They chuckled together as they walked.

Finally, "But… About the wizard. Is that really true?" she asked once more, a bit timid at her own inquiry.

Luke shrugged, "That's what they say! But people rarely see him… He's been showing up at the town meetings recently though!"

Pondering over this information for a moment, Molly's honey-brown eyes went wide. "What does he look like?"

"Let's see… A bit shorter than me, real lanky, tanned skin, tattoo under one of his eyes." Luke pulled at one of his bottom lids with his muddy index finger for emphasis. "Wears funny clothes, too."

Molly eyed her companion's eccentric head attire critically, then smirked. "I think I remember seeing him at the last meeting. He was hiding in the back corner…"

Luke laughed, "Yeah, sounds like him! He doesn't talk much, either. I tried once. He just stared at me…"

The carpenter's apprentice - moving in one sudden, swift motion - connected his axe with a nearby tree, sending splinters flying in all directions. Molly jumped, her heart practically skipping a beat.

"Jeez!" She cowered, hearing her erratic heartbeat echoing in her ears.

Luke laughed, deep and genuine. "Ha! Sorry 'bout that, Molls." He tugged the wedged axe from the massive tree trunk to resume his place beside her.

"Hey! The carpenter's shop is right next to that path, isn't it?" She glanced up with peaked curiosity.

"You mean the one to the Goddess Tree? Sure is! But that place has been overgrown for years!"

Molly grinned mischievously. "And you've never even _tried_ to get back there?"

Luke scoffed, "Well, no!"

Molly tutted her tongue, shaking her head in dramatic, feigned disappointment. "And to think… I thought you had _incredible_ axe skills…"

The young man became instantly flustered, "I do! I do!" He insisted, flailing one arm erratically for emphasis.

"Then you would think you'd be able to clear one measly, _itty-bitty_ pathway!" Molly scoffed, crossing her arms against her chest.

"_I can!_" Luke wailed, seemingly tormented by her sudden doubt in his axe-handling abilities.

"Then help me try and get to the Goddess Tree," she beamed up at him.

Luke clenched his free hand determinedly, brows furrowed in a serious resolve. "I _will!_" he bellowed.

Molly laughed. "Good! Tomorrow morning then? Will you and Bo meet me at the path bright and early? It's my last day before my livestock arrives and I have to start work on the farm…"

"Count me in!" Luke grinned, twirling his axe nonchalantly in his hands and causing Molly to allow for a bit of distance between them as they made their way out of Fugue Forest.

* * *

><p>Night on Castanet Island set Molly on edge. The stillness of the air combined with the noiselessness of the ocean that surrounded the island created an eerie sort of atmosphere that she knew would take a while to adjust to. She strolled through the town, her black satin ballet flats pattering gently against the cobblestone beneath her. She was alone with only the exception of her shadow that danced against the dull pavement as she stepped through the dim pools of light that the streetlamps seemed to struggle to provide. Lingering outside her destination, her throat seemed to tighten and her mouth became unusually very dry. It was an ordinary house, white among the colorful buildings it was nestled into the hillside with, and framed in an ornate gold design. The door was green, the paint chipping in several spots, and appeared easily ten times its true height. <em>'Fairy tales.'<em> She kept repeating to herself. _'Fairy tales. It's all just fairy tales.'_ And yet she stood, statued in a toxic, petrifying mix of nervousness and uncertainty.

Eventually her hand rose, fingers clenched in a meager excuse for a fist, her knock seeming to somehow encapsulate her anxiety. She stood, the tip of her shoe digging into the pavement below and her pearly white teeth chewing nervously at her bottom lip. The door opened slowly, a tan face barely visible through the dim candlelight that illuminated the room behind him. It was the same young man she had seen at the meeting in the church on the day of her arrival.

"Hello, sir. I'm… I'm sorry to bother you, especially at this hour, but I was wondering if I could um…" her voice raised an octave, "If I could ask you a few questions… About the island? For my research?"

The man stared at her – utterly stoic – for a long moment. He was dressed in lavish purple robe over a black turtleneck sweater. There were necklaces with beads of jade and azurite dangling from his neck.

Without warning, the door closed again. Molly stood dumbstruck, mouth agape. What just happened? She lingered, taking a step back to stare at the house. Suddenly the sound of rattling chains and clinking metal from the opposite side of the door drew her attention and caused her heart to skip a beat. The door opened slowly, the peculiar man framed in the doorway.

"Come in." His voice was rich and velvety and quite unexpected.

Molly hesitated outside. _Fairy tales. Fairy tales._ She stepped gingerly inside, glancing around in awe at the world she had just entered. The room seemed to envelope her, the warm air tickling her rosy cheeks. It smelled strongly of luxurious spices and earthy potpourri. The candlelight flickered and bounced off the walls of the house, illuminating the endless stacks of thick books that lines that walls and filled several bookshelves to the brim with dense literature. A small table in the center of the main floor held a large crystal ball perched on a small wooden stand. On one side of the room was a staircase leading to a platform of which harbored a massive telescope that protruded out the ceiling of the house. Molly had never seen anything like it before.

Turing at the sound of the door closing behind him, she examined the strange young man. He didn't look like he could be more than a mere twenty-five years old. His eyes, she noticed, were two distinctly different colors and we wore a single braid in his ashen hair.

"Oh…" she outstretched her hand awkwardly to him, "I'm sorry, I'm so rude. My name's Molly Larsson."

The man stared down at her hand for a long moment, expressionless, and Molly became suddenly very self-conscious. Just as she was pulling it away, the man took it gently in his own, his long, thin fingers surprisingly soft against her skin.

"Molly…" he repeated, as if pondering the name.

"Yes…" she said softly, "May I ask what your name is?"

Another long silence settled between them.

"You don't have to tell me," Molly announced suddenly, seeming to realize all at once that she had overstepped some sort of invisible boundary.

"No… It isn't that…" the unusual young man replied, "My people… We aren't supposed to reveal our true names. Please, call me 'Wizard'." He spoke slowly as if the words were foreign on his tongue – a language he knew once, long ago and called upon with hesitation in that moment, dusty in the recesses of his mind. His voice was rich and soothing.

"Wizard," Molly repeated with an air of disbelief. She lingered on the words Chase had spoken to her on her first day in Castanet. "Someone told me you _are_ a Wizard… Is that true?"

The young man gestured towards an empty chair. Molly politely took a seat.

"Yes. But the people of this town do not believe... They call me a 'fortune teller'. I do not mind… I keep to myself." He leaned against the wall, staring at the human intruder in his home – a rare sight. "You had questions?" He raised a single brow, the slightest inference of curiosity in his voice.

"Oh! Yes!" Molly fumbled through her bag for her notebook and a pen. She flipped through several pages of chicken-scratch notes before landing on a blank one. Awkwardly thumping her pen on the paper, she scoured her mind for something to ask; really, she had only come to satisfy her inquisitive nature and prove to herself once and for all that the strange man was simply out of his mind and was in no way a 'magical' being. However, she was finding herself only less certain than she had been before he opened the door.

"How long have you been on Castanet Island?" she asked finally, offering him a meek smile.

"…A long time. Many years," he replied vaguely. Molly scribbled down a few notes.

"Have you noticed any changes in the people of Castanet Island since the sudden environmental changes?"

"Yes… I do not leave my home very often, but I see the people are sad. I can feel their dispair... It emanates… From their very being."

Molly bit her lip. "How… Do you feel about the Harvest Goddess?"

Wizard remained silent for a long time, stoic. Finally, "I can no longer see her."

The young woman's brows furrowed as she looked up from her notes. "Excuse me?"

Wizard left his place against the wall and strode over to the large crystal ball in the center of the room. Molly stood from the chair, following the man with peaked curiosity.

"I used to be able to see her... But now I cannot…" He waved a hand over the ball and a thick cloud of colorful smoke appeared inside, churning in wisps of vibrant hues.

A shiver ran down Molly's spine as she stumbled back in disbelief.

Wizard turned to look at her, confused at the emotion that had suddenly overtaken her soft features. "I'm sorry… I did not mean… to startle you."

Molly gulped, watching as the smoke dissipated within the ball. "I-it's alright," she stammered as earnestly as she could muster. "I was just surprised, is all… So… You used to be able to see the Harvest Goddess in this thing?" Her brows furrowed as she tried to take it all in. It was all so outlandish. And yet…

"Yes. But then the clouds came… And the wind stopped… And the Harvest Goddess disappeared… And I have been unable to conjure a potion to solve any of these burdens. I feel… Helpless." The young man stared wistfully into the crystal ball.

"So not even you know what's wrong with the Harvest Goddess? Does _anyone_ know?" her voice crescendoed in sudden frustration. Wizard turned to gaze at the flustered girl beside him.

"Not that I know of. Perhaps the Witch Princess knows," he mused softly with an inclined head.

"The 'Witch Princess'?" Molly repeated skeptically. This was all so insane.

"Yes. She lives deep in the Fugue Forest," he replied. Molly silently wondered if perhaps Luke might have known the supposed witch. "I have not been to see her in many months…"

Molly bit her lip, staring pensively at a large painting of the cosmos hung on the wall. Her attention adverted to the massive telescope. "May I?" She gestured in its direction.

Wizard simply nodded in silent permission. Climbing the steps carefully, Molly placed her notebook and pen back into the bag slung over her shoulder as she approached the device. She leaned over it, peering into the scope only to be greeted by the utter blackness of the sky above them.

"I have not seen the stars since the clouds came," Wizard's voice came from over her shoulder, gentle and melancholy but startling nonetheless. Molly shot up to look at the man who stood quite close to her. He must have been just shy of a foot taller than she.

"You like the stars then," she observed the obvious, glancing at a stack of books piled against one wall that was comprised entirely of literature pertaining to the expansive universe.

"Yes," he replied simply, "I think that is… The hardest part of this situation for me; I cannot see my stars."

Molly sighed softly, brushing a lock of her loose auburn hair from her face and tucking it behind one ear. "I'll do my very best to figure out whatever's going on with this island. If I have any more questions, would it be alright if I came back to ask them?"

Wizard nodded slowly, "Yes."

Molly offered a weak smile. "So, you'll help me then?"

"I'll always help you."

Her brows furrowed. _What an unusual thing to say_.

* * *

><p><em>May 13th<em>

_I don't know how to even formulate everything that's running through my mind. This island is so strange and the people here… It's all just so weird. I can't even begin to wrap my head around the environmental phenomena this place is experiencing. This cloud just hangs in the sky, never faltering. You can even see the bright blue sky way out on the horizon during the daytime and you can feel the warmth of the summer sun, but these clouds are stagnant and they shadow the entire island at all times. The water has to be the weirdest thing of all. I stood on the shore of the beach the other day and there were no waves. It was like standing at the edge of a pond! The water was completely still and never receded. I went to school for four years to study environmental sciences and never in my life have I even heard of anything like this. The nights are the scariest. Everything becomes pitch black and it's so quiet. No one ever seems to be out at night – not that I blame them._

_On the bright side, I've met a lot of nice people here. The mayor of this island is quite funny and he seems to be pretty cheerful, despite the circumstances. Then again, I'm sure it wouldn't help the townsfolk's confidence if their own mayor was in shambles over everything that was going on. I had a nice lunch yesterday over at the Inn and I met an old woman named Yolanda and her daughter, Colleen. They both seem friendly but everyone here is so melancholy all the time. I guess it's hard not to be when your home is completely falling apart… Oh, I met two sisters named Candace and Luna. It's odd because they're so completely different that for a while I doubted that they were actually related. Luna seems so confident and outspoken while her sister, Candace, seems to blend into the shadows. She was a very sweet girl though and helped me pick out a few outfits that will be more appropriate for doing farm work in. Then there's the strange guy, Luke, that I met this morning. I shouldn't speak ill of him considering he practically saved my life when I managed to get my dumbass lost in the forest today, but I think he might be out of his mind. Chase and Kathy both seem nice, though Chase is rather blunt towards everyone it seems… There's something about him that draws me to him._

_I guess I've been kind of avoiding even writing this out because I almost feel like if I do write it, I'll officially be considered insane. I met a young man today – the one Chase had told me was a 'wizard'. Not surprisingly, his name is Wizard. He's so peculiar. Not only does he look so different from anyone I've ever seen before, but he dresses unusually as well, and his demeanor… It's all so strange and I feel foolish even writing about it. Wizards don't exist! But he had this crystal ball… I don't even know how to describe what I saw… Am I going crazy? Everything about this island seems completely mad! Perhaps I will lose my mind here. I wouldn't be surprised._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> As always, please review if you're following along and/or having any comments or suggestions to me! Feedback encourages me to write more/update faster and helps me improve.


	5. Chapter 4: Scrapes and Bruises

**Chapter Four**  
><strong>Scrapes and Bruises<strong>

"Are you ready for the most exciting adventure of your life!" Luke bellowed – though not necessarily as a question – as he stood in a dramatic action pose, one fist perched on his scrawny hip and a massive axe slung over his shoulder. He stared triumphantly into the distance, the tails of his bandana waving ever so slightly behind him in the breezeless air.

Beside Molly stood a boy of about fifteen with ashen blonde hair and a handful of freckles scattered across his slightly tanned face. She had been introduced to Bo, the younger carpenter's apprentice, and instantly wondered how a seemingly much more mild-mannered young man put up with the eccentricity of Luke day in and day out. He was amusing but she could see how he'd begin to grate.

Molly pulled a face. "Yeah, I guess so," she crossed her arms against her chest, tilting her head to stare critically at the blue-haired man, "Just _how_ many axes are you bringing, exactly?"

The older carpenter's apprentice was, in fact, covered in axes of varying sizes. In addition to the one in his hand, there was a large and a medium axe strapped to his back, another medium one strapped to his thigh, and a belt around his waist harbored at least six small hatchets that Molly would have expected to see at a crime scene. Luke stared down at himself and shrugged casually.

"I dunno, about twenty."

He was way off. Molly rolled her eyes.

"And I also brought this!" Luke reached into the back pocket of his fitted jeans, producing a black handgun and holding it proudly in the air. Molly's eyes went wide.

"Holy shit," she glanced over to Bo who appeared slightly bored rather than shocked or concerned. Her brows furrowed. "Ok… Um, well… Luke, why don't you just let me take that…" She eased closer to him, gingerly plucking the black gun out of his hand with her thumb and forefinger.

"Oh, ok then. I didn't know you liked guns, Molly."

She smiled uneasily, muttering, "Oh yeah, love 'em."

He turned to Bo, "You ready, little man?"

Molly took advantage of Luke's shifted attention to hide the gun beneath a rather large rock beside the carpentry store where they stood.

Bo rolled his eyes. "Don't call me that. And yes. Ready as I'll ever be." He was holding a single, large axe.

"May I barrow an axe, Luke?" Molly chimed politely after she had finished hiding the firearm.

He laughed. "Of course. Take your pick!"

She strolled around him momentarily before deciding on the medium axe strapped to his back – she didn't want to go for the one on his thigh.

When all three of them were armed – one obviously more-so than the others – they began their way along the path to the Goddess Tree. The beginning of the narrow, twisting route was only moderately overgrown in the beginning: unruly bushes, vines, a number of fallen trees, and some boulders that seemed to have fallen from the mountain the mine district was nestled against. It wasn't something that Molly thought was too unmanageable and she had silently begun to wonder how it could have been so hard for anyone to get to the Goddess Tree after all those years. Luke lead the three of them, swinging his axe at anything green in his sight and seeming to have entered his own little world in which the brush around them was the vicious enemy and he was some sort of audacious hero. Bo lingered a few feet behind him, careful to keep his distance from the reckless axe that lead the way and trying to clear anything that Luke had left behind in their narrow path to make it easy for Molly – who trailed behind them both – to follow. Bo paused from time to time to help the girl over the occasional fallen tree or through a massive bush that Luke had carved a meager opening in to allow them to snake through.

"Hey, Molls!" Luke shouted from the lead.

"Yeah?" she called back, idly stabbing a massive log with her axe while she waited for the two men to clear an especially dense area of thorned shrubbery.

"Do you still have that gun?"

Molly's brow furrowed. "Uh… W-why?"

"Maybe I should take it since I'm in the lead. You know, keep a lookout for bears."

The girl went a little pale. "Bears? There's bears h-here?" her voice cracked slightly.

Luke glanced back at her and chuckled. "Yeah! Why'd you think I brought the gun?"

Molly swallowed hard. "Oops…" she mumbled to herself.

Growing bored with assaulting the fallen tree, she took to sitting on it instead, resting her chin in her palm and watching Bo and Luke. She glanced down at the ground and her brows furrowed with curiosity; the faint imprint of what had clearly once been the path had disappeared from beneath them. She looked around at the massive walls of prickly shrubs and giant boulders that encased them. The only clear path in sight was the one in which they had already made to get there. A knot of uneasiness began to form in the pit of her stomach. Slipping off the fallen tree, she ambled over to the boys, lingering behind them as they struggled endlessly with the mountain of thick prickly bushes. They didn't seem to be getting very far. She could see beads of sweat dripping down both their faces as they strained and labored with little result. Molly frowned.

"Do you think it's much further to the Goddess Tree from here?"

Luke laughed, pausing from his endless swinging to turn to look at her. He was panting slightly. "Well, I've never been there myself, but I've seen a map of the island and the path to the Goddess Tree is really long!"

"I don't think we're even a quarter of the way," Bo chimed in, also pausing to give his weary arms a bit of a break. Molly bit down on her bottom lip. They were never going to get there at such a rate.

As the men resumed their efforts, she paced around the tiny clearing they were bubbled in, squinting her eyes to try to see through the thick brush surrounding them for any kind of alternative path they could cut. The vines were too dense and the massive and intimating thorns that were beginning to resemble the teeth of a monster quickly ruled out such a possibility. Molly walked back over to the fallen tree she had previously been sitting on. Just as she was about to settle back on the thick tree trunk, the momentary flash of something behind it caught her eye.

"Huh?" She leaned forward against the log, peering down in to the deep, dark brush behind it. Nothing seemed to be there. Leaning further, she carefully reached out to push aside a patch of leaves.

And then she saw it: a few feet away, barely visible through the brush, was a little creature about the size of a mouse. It looked like a _fairy_ with a little red outfit, green hair underneath its red hat, and beady little black eyes. It was lying on the ground and looking rather dead until its little head moved slightly as it peered up through its tiny, weary eyes at the young woman looming above it.

Molly let out a sudden, shrill shriek and simultaneously lost her already unstable balance, tumbling over the log and landing in the prickly thicket. She felt twinges of stinging pain in several places over her body and let out another sharp cry. Both young men appeared behind the log with wild expressions.

"Molly, are you ok?" Bo asked frantically.

Luke let out a loud laugh. "That's the second time I've seen you fall in two days!"

Bo elbowed his friend sharply in the ribs. Luke winced at the feeling of the young man's boney elbow jabbing his side.

"Ow…" he groaned and rubbed the place he'd been hit.

"Help her up, Luke!" Bo scowled, throwing a gesture towards the poor girl who was lying in the prickly bush, too afraid to move out of fear that she would cause herself further damage and too in shock over both her current predicament and what she had just witnessed – or at least, _thought_ she had witnessed. Luke extended his hand from the other side of the log. She took it with great hesitation, recalling the previous day how Luke seemed to underestimate his own strength when dealing with other people; she would have been terrified to be intimate with him. He was considerably more gentle though as he helped Molly off the ground and climb back over the fallen tree.

"You're bleeding, Molly. Are you ok?" Bo's face was contorted with sincere concern. Indeed Molly was bleeding in quite a few places: she had many scrapes up her forearms, a few on her legs – though her jeans had taken the grunt of the damage – and one below her left eye that was slowly beginning to ooze a crimson river down her cheek.

"What happened?" The slightest touch of worry seemed to finally reach Luke's words.

Molly stared between their faces with wide eyes and opened her mouth to speak but her brain couldn't seem to formulate the words. "I-I saw… Something…" She stammered meekly.

"Was it a bear?" Luke suddenly became quite serious and looked rather excited at the prospect.

"No, smaller…" Molly mumbled, still in shock.

"A deer? A possum? A rat?" Bo threw out his guesses. Molly just stared at him for a long time in silence.

"I… I think it was like… A fairy or something," she said finally, feeling quite insane to even say such words.

Bo and Luke exchanged glances and shrugged.

"Maybe you're just tired," Bo offered, reaching out to gently touch the girl's shoulder. She pondered this before nodding in agreement.

"Yeah… You're probably right…" she mumbled, walking over to pick up her loaned axe.

"We should go," Bo sighed.

Molly glanced over at him with a frown, becoming flustered. "But if we leave we'll never get to the Goddess Tree!"

Luke laughed, "The Goddess Tree will still be there tomorrow! And the next day… And the next day… And the next day…"

"_We get it_, Luke. And yeah, you're pretty scratched up, Molly. You'll probably wanna go get cleaned up," Bo added earnestly.

Molly sighed, knowing they were both right. "Alright…" She mumbled dejectedly, beginning to follow behind the two men as they started their retreat from the path in the direction they had originally come.

* * *

><p>They emerged into the mine district, all three of them tired and dragging their axes lazily behind them. It was already beginning to get a bit dark and the few lamps in the area had been lit for the night. Luke spotted Chase just stepping out of the General Store carrying a paper bag full of goods.<p>

"Hey! Chase-y!" Luke sauntered over to the strawberry-blonde man who glanced over and looked instantly annoyed.

"Oh great…"

Molly heard him grumbling all the way from where she stood. This didn't seem to affect Luke.

"What're you doing out here?" He was leaning against his axe the way he always seemed to when he idled himself. Molly wondered if he slept in bed with it too. Maybe – in his more private moments – he whispered sweet nothings into its worn-out handle.

"Just… Getting some stuff." Chase glanced to Molly – bloody faced and axe in hand. His brows furrowed. "What the hell are you guys doing?"

"We were trying to get to the Goddess Tree," Bo announced as he and Molly approached.

"And what happened to you?" Chase shot Molly a particularly uneasy look.

"She fell into the prickly bushes," Luke chortled.

Molly smacked him on the arm.

"What! It's true!" he whined softly.

Chase rolled his eyes.

"I'm heading home. The clinic's closed by now but there's a medical kit at my place if you want to, you know, wash all that blood off and put some bandages on."

Molly lifted a hand to touch her cheek self-consciously, feeling the dried blood on her warm skin.

"Thanks…" she mumbled, not looking at him but rather at a small rock beside his feet. Walking then over to Luke, she offered him his other axe.

"Thanks!" he took it gratefully with a smile.

"Thank you guys for trying to help me today. I really appreciate it," she smiled sincerely to both Luke and Bo who nodded cheerfully in response.

"Sorry we couldn't get to the Goddess Tree today," Bo said.

"It's alright. Another day," Molly spoke with as much optimism as she could muster.

The girl turned to follow beside Chase, but hesitated. "Oh, Luke? Your gun's under that rock over there." She pointed to the rock under which she had hidden his bear deterrent.

Catching back up to Chase, she heard Luke fumbling behind her to overturn the stone.

* * *

><p>It was dark by the time they reached Chase's home over in the Flue Fields district. His house was modest but warm and inviting with dark hardwood floors, a small kitchen and a dining table, and two doors that she assumed lead to a bedroom and a bathroom. Molly stepped into the room behind the young man, greeted by the scent of spices and a hint of orange zest. He set the bag of items on the dining table.<p>

"Here, come over here," Chase instructed flatly and walked over to the sink.

Molly complied, rolling up the sleeves of her grey sweater as far as they would go as she took her place beside him. He looked critically over all the scrapes she had managed to accumulate over her pale arms.

"You look like hell."

Molly rolled her eyes, mumbling sarcastically, "Thanks."

Chase started the tepid water in the sink and Molly began carefully rinsing the dried blood from her arms.

"What were you doing out there anyway?" He started rummaging through the cupboards, after a moment producing a small first-aid kit.

"Perry told me about the Goddess Tree. I was trying to get to it." She already knew that he was going to make her feel as foolish as she already knew she was.

"Why would you want to go there?" His face contorted in earnest confusion as he handed her a white towel to dab her arms dry with.

"I dunno…" Molly mumbled awkwardly, avoiding his gaze as she dried herself off.

"Well, whatever the reason, that place has been totally fucked for years. There's no way you're going to be able to get back there – no matter how many men with axes you recruit."

She couldn't help but smile. "I just thought it was worth a try, I guess."

He chuckled dryly as he uncapped a tube of antibiotic cream and gently began to apply it to the more vicious looking scrapes on her arm. "Aren't you supposed to be doing _productive_ things?"

Molly rolled her eyes and laughed. "Well, yeah. But my livestock comes in tomorrow and I have to wait for the soil supplements before I can even attempt to grow anything. Today was my last day before I have to start all that stuff so…" she trailed off and shrugged one shoulder, "I mean… So many of the people here believe in all this Goddess stuff and I thought it was at least worth trying to investigate. I really don't know what's wrong with this place. Everything that's going on here is so weird. I've never seen anything like it before in my life. And I guess…" She sighed softly, "I guess maybe it's to the point where I just don't know if all this 'fairy tale' junk is as insane as we think it is…"

Chase's face had gone quite serious as he listened, wrapping a long, white cloth bandage around each of her forearms to cover the majority of the scrapes. He didn't say anything to her and Molly was beginning to feel as if she might have said something wrong. The young man wet the tip of the white cloth under the faucet before gently beginning to wipe the blood from her cheek. Molly winced as it touched the wound and stared at his concentrating face. She felt a light blush tickle her cheeks; she hoped he wouldn't notice.

"Molly," he started in a quiet but stern voice, "I don't know what you think you're going to find out there with that old tree, but it doesn't exist."

She frowned, her brows pulling together. "But Chase… Like, what about the wizard-"

"He's a fortune teller, Molly. He calls himself a 'wizard', but he just makes stuff up for money. He lies to people and tells them what they want to hear. There's nothing else to it."

Molly found herself growing flustered, defensive. "But I met him! He doesn't seem like a kook or a scam-artist to me!"

Chase sighed tiredly as if this conversation was beginning to wear him out. "I'm sure he's a very nice person," he spoke insincerely, obviously just trying to soothe the girl's rising temper. This seemed to work for whatever reason.

"Maybe you're right…" she mumbled after a moment as he dabbed a bit of antibiotic on her now blood-free cheek, "I guess I'm getting a little ahead of myself, aren't I?" She smiled meekly.

He chuckled, "Yeah, seems like it."

He took a step back, examining his handy work on the girl. Molly glanced down at the bandages laced around her forearms.

"I look like a mummy," she commented miserably.

"Yeah, you do look pretty stupid."

She scowled at him and they both chuckled. Silence settled between them and Molly stared down at her feet, growing a bit somber in thought.

"Chase, I could have sworn I saw something when I was on that path. I was staring into the bushes and I thought I saw this, like… This little _fairy_ or something, just _lying_ there," she glanced up at him nervously, "Am I losing my mind already? I've only been here a few days!"

He laughed, rolling his eyes. "You're probably just tired-" This excuse was already starting to annoy her. "- and need to get some sleep."

"You're right," she shrugged and sighed, "Thanks for the help."

"Yup."

He followed her over to the door.

"I'd offer to walk you home, but I really don't want to," he smirked and she rolled her eyes.

"That's alright. I'm a big girl; I can find my way home," She laughed softly and waved before slipping outside into the eerie night.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Please R&R! I always appreciate it :)


	6. Chapter 5: For Certain

**Chapter Five**  
><strong>For Certain<strong>

A stack of freshly developed photographs distracted Molly as she made her trek from Simon's Photos – the small photography studio in Harmonica Town owned by a mild-mannered gentleman who clearly wasn't used to having customers on account of the island's modest population. She thumbed through them, looking over the faces of many of the people she had met and photographed for her records, along with the pictures she had taken of the island to illustrate the severity of the conditions they were surviving in. Lingering on a picture of the Wizard – leaning against one of the inner walls of his home and looking particularly stoic – Molly wondered how she was going to compose his existence in her report, at the risk of sounding insane. There was a part of her, a little voice of reason that lingered in the back of her mind, that was rather afraid that any sort of claim as completely outlandish as the existence of a 'wizard' was going to get her pulled from the case. She knew that Phil trusted her, yes, but trust only extended so far in the professional world – especially when the circumstances involved the protection of an island of people who were suffering. Was omitting the claim that such a thing as a wizard could exist the best course of action, even when it potentially pertained to the cause of the island's mysterious condition? Molly couldn't say for certain. But with the task of conducting her first case report that evening, it was something she was going to have to decide quickly.

Approaching her farm – of which was still just a bare as the day she had moved onto it – the young woman came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Cain, the owner of the Ranch in the Flute Field district, who was surrounded by two cows, three chickens, two ducks, and a goat – just as Mayor Hamilton had recited days before. Several stacks of hay and bags of chicken feed were set against the coop. Cain was a large, barrel-chested man with tousled brown hair who looked like he could take on a bull and win. Had he not been old enough to be her father and had a daughter only two years younger than she, Molly might have found something oddly attractive about him – in that_older man_kind of way. He – as was explained to her by the Mayor – was also the man who would be collecting her produce in the evenings. Cain and the animal hoard were standing over by the barn, the human amongst them leaning against its large wooden doors. He seemed to perk up as he spotted her in the distance, throwing up a large hand in the air to wave enthusiastically. Molly headed over, sorting the photographs back into a neat pile and slipping them into her back pocket as she arrived.

"Yer animals arrived – dropped off on the other side of the island today. I brought 'em over for ya', but ya' weren't home an' the barns all locked up," he spoke in a southern-like drawl, an accent of which matched that of his wife, Hanna's, and even seemed to come up ever-so-slightly in their daughter, Renee's, soft-spoken voice from time to time. Molly doubted that Cain and Hanna had lived their entire lives on Castanet Island, though she had never pushed so far as to ask.

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry Cain," Molly weaved her way through the animals that were pecking at and grazing on the grass beneath them, fishing for her set of keys in the front pocket of her black skinny jeans, "I was just over at Simon's getting some film developed." She slipped one of the keys into the large, slightly rusted metal lock on the door to the barn. With a _click_, the lock surrendered and Molly pushed open the large wooden doors. The loud squeals and the scurrying sound of tiny feet echoed off the walls as rats scrambled to their holes with the sudden light that poured into the dusty old barn. A shiver ran up Molly's spine; she was terrified of rats. The inside of the barn contained several feeding and water troughs and a separate, closed-off area to keep the feed. Cain began leading the cattle and goat inside the barn as Molly went to unlock the coop and clumsily chase the chickens and ducks into their new home.

By the time she had managed to get all five birds inside and some of their feed dispensed, Cain was already beginning to fill the water trough.

"Thanks for your help," Molly said as she stood behind one cow and petting its haunches awkwardly. She hadn't touched a cow since the last time she had been to a petting zoo – when she was six.

"'Course. Glad I could help. Do ya' know much 'bout animal rearing?"

Molly sighed, "No. I mean, I've never done it, but I did a lot of reading on it…" She contemplated how stupid she must have sounded: the young girl from the city who shows up to run a farm by herself and thinks reading_books_ will be enough. But as her gaze turned back to Cain, he was only smiling warmly at her.

"Well, lemme know if ya' have any questions or need any help. I'd be happy to assist ya' while ya' get settled."

She smiled, "Thanks," then nervously eyed the swollen udder of the cow of which she stood beside, "I do have… _one_ question. I _have_ to touch those, don't I?" Her brows pulled together and her little nose crinkled in distaste. Cain let out a deep belly laugh.

"You'll get used to it! Don't worry, it's not so bad."

Molly forced what she could manage of a smile, "I hope so."

Cain wiped the dirt from his hands carelessly on his jeans. "The aid distribution fer the week starts in 'bout an hour down by the docks. I think the Mayor was sayin' your seeds an' whatnot came with it so don't forget," he smiled a toothy, genuine smile to her before turning and leaving the barn.

"Bye Cain. Thanks again!" she called as she lingered beside one of the large cows. Turning her attention back to her new livestock, she perched her fists on her hips, contemplating where to start and trying to conjure up as much information that she had read as she possibly could. It couldn't be that hard, right?

Over the next hour, Molly found herself perched on a small wooden stool and hovering dangerously close to the teat of one of her bovine. Beneath its udder was a large tin bucket which remained primarily empty as the girl tugged and prodded and pulled awkwardly at one of the nipples. She must have apologized a hundred times to the poor cow as she did so, until she figured out just how to properly squeeze in a way that shot milk into the bucket below. The noise of the stream of milk hitting the tin was enough to drive away the grossness of the entire ordeal.

* * *

><p>By the time Molly had finished milking both cows and the goat, of which had spent most of its time trying to nibble on the sleeve of her navy blue sweater, there was already a crowd of people gathered by the docks in Harmonica Town. They were chatting amongst themselves, some looking rather impatient. Molly didn't know how the aid that the organization she represented sent was distributed nor how it was <em>supposed<em> to be distributed, yet it was somehow considered one of her responsibilities to ensure that it was being done so properly – whatever that meant.

She carefully weaved her way through the crowd of people, her brown boots clicking against the cobblestones, until she reached a large white table that had been set up where the wooden planks of the docks met with the stones of the town. Behind the table sat the plump little mayor and beside him was his agitated looking son who was staring down intensely at a clipboard in his hands. All over the docks were large wooden crates with different names written on them.

"Hi," Molly smiled meekly as she approached the mayor. Mayor Hamilton glanced up from a list in his hands.

"Oh, hello, Molly! We're almost finished sorting through it all. We're a bit behind today, I'm afraid. Silly little mix-ups, you know how it is." The mayor seemed perpetually cheerful.

"Of course," Molly lied as she glanced over all the crates. "Um, I'm supposed to learn how the aid is distributed here so I can report it back to SIHA. Would you mind explaining to me how this all works?"

"Ah, yes, yes. Of course! Gill, why don't you explain our process to this nice young lady?" Mayor Hamilton smiled over to his son.

Gill glanced up at the girl, looking terribly inconvenienced and annoyed.

"Of course…" he muttered finally, waving her over. Molly stepped carefully behind the table to join the young man.

"Every two weeks we get a shipment in. Products are broken up and distributed to both businesses and to families. For example, Kathy and her father, Hayden, get a crate for the Brass Bar as well as a personal one for them as a family. Businesses put in requests for goods that they need. People are also able to put in personal requests for their residential aid, such as Yolanda for her favorite cookies or Luke and Chase for those cartons of _cigarettes_they adore so much," Gill rolled his eyes at this, "Personal requests don't always get filled though, and you can tell when the cigarettes don't come," Gill shook his head, glancing down at the page on his clipboard, "Certain things are standard in the residential crates: canned soups, canned vegetables, eggs, milk – that sort of thing. The crates for the businesses differ widely considering they're tailored to meet the needs of that specific business; the bar gets alcohol and some extra food to serve, the tailor shop gets fabric and yarn to make their clothes – you get the idea. It's all very organized, thanks to me."

Molly raised an eyebrow up at the pompous young man and smirked.

"_Shelly Martin!_" The mayor, who was now standing on his chair to peer into the crowd – or rather, to achieve eye-level with the crowd – bellowed.

Shelly, the small, old woman, and one of her granddaughters, Luna – a pink haired, haughty looking girl – emerged from the gathering of people.

"If you'll excuse me, I have work to do now," Gill snapped at Molly as he walked through the crates to find the Martin's goods.

Molly looked over all the names on the crates before spotting one that simply read '_wizard_'.

"Um, Gill?" She ambled back over to the mayor's son, who glanced over his shoulder to glare at the girl who had so rudely interrupted his work twice now.

"What?" he asked flatly with a cocked brow.

"Does Wizard usually come out to get his crate?" Molly hadn't recalled seeing him in the crowd.

"No."

Gill was picking up one of Shelly's crates and heading over to the old woman and her granddaughter. Molly tailed behind him awkwardly.

"Um, do you think it would be alright if I go drop it off for him?"

Gill handed off the crate to Luna, who stumbled momentarily as she tried to steady herself with the heavy box.

"Yes, yes, _whatever_. Just get out of here. You're getting in the way."

Molly smiled to herself as she walked over and picked up the wizard's crate. Instantly she understood why Luna had faltered; the crate was excruciatingly heavy. Frowning to herself, she stumbled through the crowd with the wooden box, quite sure that at any moment it could slip from her grasp.

As she emerged on the other side of the group, she spotted Chase and Kathy stepping out of the Brass Bar and heading in her direction.

"Hey, Molly!" Kathy called with a wide grin as she spotted the auburn-haired girl who was wheezing slightly and looking a bit like her legs might give way beneath her.

"Hey guys," Molly forced a smile.

Chase read the name on the crate she was holding and shot her a glare.

"Running off to play make-believe, are we?" He lifted a brow.

Molly was already used to Chase's usual critical tone, but something about the way he had spoken just then gave her the impression that she had somehow personally wronged him. Had he run out of cigarettes, she wondered?

"Something like that," she smiled meekly, "This is really heavy, but I have to come back for my own stuff. I'll see you guys in a few minutes?"

"Sure thing," Kathy smiled sincerely as she walked past the girl. Chase lingered momentarily, staring down at Molly through annoyed, lidded eyes before pushing past her. Continuing on, Molly glanced over her shoulder just in time to see Kathy elbowing Chase sharply in the ribs and hissing something she was too far away to hear.

With great effort, Molly reached Wizard's front door. She dropped the crate as gently as she could manage but a light _thud_ still echoed off the walls of the surrounding houses. She paused, standing quite still to try and hear any noises or hints of life on the other side of his door. Quite satisfied that the dropping of the crate hadn't roused suspicion, the girl crouched to her knees beside the crate.

Of course it wasn't polite to go through other people's belongings, but if one could simply chalk it up to 'research' in the name of science then surely what she did next was at least remotely acceptable. Her fingertips struggled with the lid of the crate for some time before it finally gave and came loose. Setting it gingerly aside, Molly peered into the wooden box. Inside was much of what Gill had described: stacks of canned goods including green beans, pumpkin, corn, peaches in heavy syrup, vegetable soup, and the like, as well as several cartons of eggs and a jug of milk. She sifted around these, revealing four large tin cans of coffee grounds. Her brows pulled together as she picked one up to observe the label. Who needs four cans of coffee grounds in two weeks? Replacing it back in the crate, she wedged the lid back on to the wooden box as well as she could, which wasn't very well at all. She stood back up and adjusted her dark blue sweater, tugging at the sleeves to ensure that the white cotton bandages wrapped around her arms from the previous day's misadventures were completely out of sight. Lifting a hand, she knocked lightly on Wizard's front door and waited for any response. For a long time, she was met with only silence. Eventually she heard the familiar clicking of several different locks and the door cracked open just enough to see a sliver of toffee-toned skin and one brilliant green eye.

"Hello," she smiled. Wizard remained still for some time, simply gazing at her with no emotion on what little she could see of his face. Finally he opened the door a bit more to reveal himself, clad in a plain black shirt and a pair of plum-colored pajama bottoms that gathered generously at his feet, as if they must have been several sizes too large.

"Oh," Molly bit her lip shamefully, "I woke you up. I'm sorry."

Wizard's bi-colored gaze dropped to the wooden crate on his doorstep.

"You… brought me my rations," he observed.

Molly nodded, "Yeah, Gill said you don't usually go by to get them so I thought I'd just come bring them to you." She mustered a smile.

"Come in," he instructed as he pulled the door fully open and stepped outside to pick up the heavy box. Wizard didn't seem to strain in the slightest compared to the hell of a time Molly had had with the crate; she inwardly prayed that he didn't noticed or mention the suspiciously loose lid. She stepped inside, followed by the young man with the box who carried it over to set on the table in the center of him home.

"I really can't stay, but I wanted to tell you that I tried to get to the Goddess Tree yesterday," she announced with the slightest bit of pride, despite her obvious failings.

"Oh?" He turned to her and raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Yeah, Luke and Bo and I tried. We didn't get very far but…" she trailed off and shrugged.

"I wouldn't imagine you would…" For the first time that Molly had seen, Wizard smirked.

Her face broke into a grin, "Hey! At least I _tried_!" She laughed, crossing her arms in faux offense.

"This… is true," he reasoned as he lifted a hand to wipe the sleep from one eye. Molly hesitated for a moment, considering whether or not to tell him about what she had thought she had seen in the prickly bushes that lined the path. She was, ultimately, afraid that he might think she was crazy. Of course the humor did not escape her in the fact that she was afraid of whether or not a young man who claimed himself a_wizard_ thought she was crazy.

"I should go," she gestured to the door.

He nodded in silent understanding and followed behind her.

"I'll come back soon?" A question – a request for permission.

"Of course." Impassive, as usual.

Turning, she stepped outside to head back to the aid distribution.

* * *

><p>"There you are," Kathy smiled as Molly ambled over. The crowd had been reduced to nothing more than a few staggering people.<p>

"Have fun?" Chase shot her an accusatory glance.

Molly rolled her eyes, "_Tons_. We made potions, talked to the dead, then got naked and did a magical dance."

Kathy stifled a giggle and Chase huffed, annoyed.

"Do you want to come by tonight, have a few drinks at the bar? Goddess knows it's always empty and boring there these days. We could use any amount of excitement." Kathy was womanly but tough – the kind of girl who didn't seem like she would take shit from anyone; it probably came with the territory of working in a bar when you're a beautiful woman around drunk men every night. She was nice to Molly though, which, being so new, Molly appreciated.

"I can't," Molly sighed, frowning, "I have to write up my first case report tonight."

Kathy's face fell, "Oh…"

Molly didn't like to talk about her work more than she had to to people like Chase and Kathy. It was almost like it drove a wedge between them – reminded them that she wasn't just another girl, she was a young woman on a job and part of that job involved _studying_ the island and the people on it. She was there to help them when they couldn't help themselves, and that put her in a position vulnerable of being misconstrued as 'superior'. Molly knew her time on Castanet Island _was_ a job, but she didn't want to spend it alone and without friends or make anyone there feel as if she were any different than any of them. She knew about weather and the science of the environment, but the moment she stepped onto that island, even she was just as clueless as everyone else as to what was going on. Yet still, somehow there was a responsibility of helping these people that weighed heavy on her shoulders.

"Maybe tomorrow night?" she offered.

"I'm holding you to that," Chase interjected rather coldly, despite the context, to which Molly laughed.

"Alright, I promise," Molly rolled her eyes.

"Molly!"

Turning, Molly spotted the Mayor who was still behind the white table and waving her over. She fumbled towards him.

"Yes, Mayor Hamilton?"

"Your crate is here and it has your soil supplements inside. I called up Ruth and Craig earlier and they said they'd send their daughter, Anissa, over to your farm tomorrow to bring over some seeds and fertilizer and help you get some things planted and set up. Isn't that nice?"

A grateful smile spread across her rosy lips, "Thank you, Mayor. That's great, I really appreciate it."

Mayor Hamilton gave a jolly belly laugh, "Oh, thank _her_! She's a lovely girl."

Gill had appeared with a wooden crate labeled _MOLLY LARSSON_ and was staring expectantly down at her. She took it, much to her chagrin, and turned to start her long, miserable journey back to her farm.

"Need help with that?" Chase gave a mocking smirk as she walked by.

Molly hissed, "Fuck off, Chase," before scrunching up her lightly freckled nose and sticking her bubblegum-pink tongue out playfully at him, to which he laughed.

* * *

><p>The eerie dusk settled on Castanet Island like a thick blanket. Molly sat at the large wooden dining table in her farm house. Spread out around her were her notebooks, her diary, and many manila folders scattered carelessly with different names – <em>LUKE MCCARTHY, KATHY TALBOT, CHASE OLANDER, DR. JIN NAKAMURA…<em>– and photographs of the person paper-clipped to the corresponding folder. The papers inside the folders were mostly blank with little more than vague information about the different people and notes from interviews of those she had done thus far. In her hands was the folder simply titled _WIZARD_. She was staring down curiously at the photograph of the young man, observing the strange white tattoo beneath his right eye. Setting the folder aside, she sighed heavily as her fingertips settled on the cool keys of her old black typewriter. The page queued had no more than several lines typed out. It wasn't like Molly to struggle with her reports – but then again, this case was proving to be quite convoluted and completely unlike anything she had ever experienced before. What should she say about the island's belief in the Harvest Goddess? The truth couldn't hurt, she figured – not about that, at least. But what about what she had seen on the path? And what about the so-called wizard? There was no reason to give her boss any excuse to suspect that she was losing her mind or in any way unfit to see-out the remainder of her assignment. She had been sent to observe the island from a scientific and logical point-of-view; there was no room for superstitions and silly childhood fantasies.

Her fingers began to dance across the keyboard, the comforting sound of the gentle _clinks_ of the keys filling the room as she typed. Molly focused on the weather, on the soil, and on all the things she knew for certain.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> A slightly less exciting, but necessary chapter. I hope it was still entertaining enough to be enjoyed :) Please R&R! And thank you, thank you,_thank you_ to Joyie, Manda-chan, Rune, Temyx Mew Mew Haerts, and legend of ur face for leaving feedback and encouragement thus far! I really appreciate it.


	7. Chapter 6: Blackout

**Chapter Six**  
><strong>Blackout<strong>

There's a peaceful kind of silence that comes with the first snowfall of the year. But when that first frost blows in and the ground disappears under a blanket of white snow in the middle of May, that beautiful scene so indicative of winter takes on an eerie, more sinister sentiment. That was exactly the scene Molly awoke to: a thick layer of white covered her entire farm, swallowing up everything in its path. The previous night had not seemed especially cold, though she had stayed inside to type her first case report. Even still, it seemed as though an impending frost would not have escaped her the way it somehow had. She stood at one window for some time, just staring out at the unusual wintery scene in the tail-end of a supposed spring.

Anissa, the daughter of the farmer in the Flute Fields district, had been scheduled to arrive on Molly's farm that morning to help the novice agriculturist set up her fields to begin a first attempt at growing crops. Molly put in a phone call to the young woman, being met with a gentle voice that fought through the static that did not succeed in hiding the anxiety in Anissa's tone which mirrored the concern that Molly had already felt. There would not be any planting of any crops, of course, until the snow had melted and the island regained enough heat to make tilling the soil even remotely plausible. Molly hung up the phone feeling no more confident nor optimistic than she had been before the conversation. Snow in May? Rain was to be expected, but snow – especially in the capacity that had fallen – seemed completely bizarre. Whatever crops that Craig and Ruth had been attempting to grow had certainly perished that day. It was a thought that left Molly feeling upset and particularly guilty. After all, she was the one who was supposed to be helping the island and all its inhabitants. There was a weight that rested on her shoulders that only seemed to magnify when stared into the eyes of the villagers and saw their desperation and despair.

Molly pulled on a thick black winter jacket and a pair of grey boots. After tying her short auburn hair into a ponytail and glancing at her pallid reflection in the mirror, she pushed her way outside and went to the barn to tend to her livestock. The inside of the barn seemed warm enough, though she still worried about the comfort of her animals. She doted over them, taking care to spend an especially long time brushing each one and talking to them in a soft, reassuring voice – as if they had had any clue as to what was going on. They seemed content in ignorant bliss as they munched at the hay Molly had distributed. She milked the cows and stored it away in the cooling bin before moving on to the poultry in the coop.

Once her chores had been finished, she returned to the house. Molly collected the stack of paperwork she had left neatly on the dining table the night before and slipped her report into a large yellow envelope that was lined with bubble-wrap. Six glass vials filled with soil and wrapped in tissue paper went in next before the envelope was sealed and addressed to be delivered to her overseeing organization. Her attention lingered on the large book she had borrowed from the church that remained beside her typewriter. Scooping it up, she tucked it under one arm along with her out-going post before heading back outside.

The envelope was dropped off at the Town Hall in Harmonica Town. The Mayor was out, so Molly left her mail with the haughty-looking young blonde man at the front desk. Molly had already learned that engaging Gill in conversation was a fruitless effort, so she simply handed him the package and left.

Her boots crunched as she wobbled her way unsteadily through the snow, heading towards Wizard's house. She lingered outside the door, contemplating whether or not speaking with him was worth the chance of waking him up again as she had so rudely done the day before. Curiosity being one of Molly's most pertinent traits, the indecision didn't last. She knocked lightly and awaited the familiar sounds of the locks clicking on the other side. Wizard appeared from behind the door as it opened, wearing a pair of dark pants and a dark grey turtleneck sweater; it was much to Molly's relief that he wasn't in sleeping clothes.

"Molly," his lips twitched in the slightest hint of a smile, though it disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"Hi. I'm sorry to bother you all the time – I just wanted to talk to you about something. Are you busy?"

Wizard stepped aside without answer to allow Molly into his home. She obliged gratefully. The scent of peppermint and coffee tickled her nose. At the sound of the door closing behind her, Molly turned to face the young man. Pulling the large book from under her arm, she held it out to him like a child holds a storybook to a parent – pleadingly.

"Wizard, I don't know what to make of this and I don't know who else to ask," her voice faltered as tears threatened to sting her eyes in her desperation.

Taking the book from her, the young man ran his fingers over the old, worn leather cover as he stared pensively down at it. He flipped through the first few pages before walking over to the clothed table in the middle of the room. Wizard set the large book down before picking up the crystal ball and its stand and setting it aside on a shelf. He gestured for her to sit in the adjacent seat as he sat down at the table. Molly followed his silent instruction as she rubbed at one eye, refusing to allow herself to break down in the presence of a near stranger. Wizard took to thumbing through the pages of the book in front of him, his silence only tightening the knot that had formed in Molly's stomach.

"Well?" She was leaning forward in anticipation.

Wizard glanced up to meet her anxious gaze, "This… is a book about the Harvest Goddess."

Molly bit her lip. "I know that… I just…" She drew in a deep breath to steady herself, "I just don't _get_ it. These kinds of things, they don't _exist_ where I come from. Yet I show up here and… None of this makes any _sense_," she buried her face in her hands miserably, "People tell me there's a Harvest Goddess and that she watches over this island, but things like that only exist in fairytales. But then I show up here, and I see what's happening to this island and… and that doesn't make sense either! Things like these don't happen, but it_ is_ and I don't understand how that can be. They sent me here to help and I don't know what to do," she pulled her face from her hands and wiped a drop of moisture from her cheek with the back of one hand.

"You're crying," Wizard observed.

"I'm not," she lied defensively, frowning at him.

He sighed softly, leaning back in his chair, "I don't… know what you want me to tell you, Molly. I cannot make you… believe in something that you do not."

"It's not that," she squeaked at barely above a whisper, tracing patterns awkwardly in the tablecloth with one finger, "I just… I don't _know_. Part of me believes and… the other part of me hates myself for believing."

He watched her thoughtfully for some time as she avoided his stare.

"Do you believe me?" he asked finally.

Molly's gaze shot up in surprise at the question, "Do you mean do I believe that you're a wizard?"

He nodded. She lingered hesitantly over the question, forehead creasing in thought.

"I… I don't know."

Molly saw the slightest touch of hurt flash across the young man's face.

"I _want_ to," she added desperately, "It's just that I wasn't brought up to believe that things like these could exist."

"I… see," he sat up stiffly in his chair.

Molly sighed. "I want to help this island and I don't want to just sit idly by and make all these miniscule, _failed_ attempts at making things only marginally more comfortable for the people here. Science is failing this place because we can't even _begin_ to recognize how or why these conditions are happening, and yet they still expect me to somehow figure it all out. I feel like if I only go by what my logic is telling me, I'm not going to be doing anything important or very productive while I'm here," she took a deep breath and stared up at him with an expression that must have mirrored the way many of the townsfolk looked at her, "I _need_ your help, Wizard. I'm asking you to please, _please_ help me. You said to me that you used to be able to see the Harvest Goddess, and clearly you know a lot more about her than I—"

"I knew her," Wizard interjected. Molly blinked in surprise.

"You did?"

He nodded slowly in response, "I met her many years ago… when Witch and I first moved here… And several times after that. She watches over this island, just as people believe… and have believed for hundreds of years. She… loves the people of this island."

Molly took a moment to digest what she had just been told, "But you still don't know what's wrong or why you can't see her anymore?"

"No."

"What about the 'Witch Princess'? You told me before that she might know."

"I'm unsure… I have not visited Witch in some time."

Molly frowned, "Why not?"

"If you met her, you would know." Wizard's lips curled into an uncontainable, amused smile. Molly couldn't help but giggle at the sight.

"Well, will you take me to meet her?"

The expression on Wizard's face faded, "Is… that what you want?"

Molly hesitated before nodding slowly. "Yes, if you think there's even a chance that she might know…"

Wizard became pensive. He stared at the crystal ball he had set aside.

"Alright," he announced finally, "We will go to her."

The young woman's face broke into an excited grin, "Great. When?"

"When the snow melts," he said.

"Alright, deal."

* * *

><p>As promised, Molly arrived at the Brass Bar just as the island was beginning to darken. The warm, dimly lit bar was an appreciated relief from the cold outside and smelled like freshly cooked food. Kathy spotted the girl as Molly stepped into the nearly empty room; Chase and Kathy were seated at a table, engaged in a card game.<p>

"You came!" Kathy waved the girl over cheerfully.

"Yeah," Molly smiled and ambled over, shrugging out of her thick jacket before taking a seat at the table between the waitress and the moody chef. Chase surrendered his hand of cards on the table as if he had been looking for an excuse to quit for hours.

"Chase, why don't you make yourself useful and go make us some drinks now that Molly's here?" Kathy grinned as she began collecting the cards back into a neat stack.

"Sure thing," Chase spoke with a touch less annoyance than usual as he pushed himself from the table, "What do you want?" He was looking back at Molly, who hesitated.

"Vodka, I guess."

Chase cocked an eyebrow, "Vodka and_ what_?"

Oh, there was that typical Chase venom making an appearance.

Molly frowned, "Vodka and anything, I guess."

"Molly, don't give him that kind of freedom," Kathy warned with a smirk, "he'll mix it with dishwater or something."

Giggling, Molly rolled her eyes. "Fine. A vodka cranberry."

"Just bring me a bottle of whiskey and a glass of ice," Kathy instructed as she leaned back in her chair.

Chase turned and walked off to the bar on the other side of the room.

"Snows pretty bad out there, huh?" Kathy asked.

"Yeah…" Molly mumbled, "Is this normal? I mean, has it been randomly snowing since… all this _stuff_ started happening?"

Kathy shook her head, her long blonde ponytail swishing behind her as she did so, "No, but I'm not surprised by it. I mean, at this point I'm not surprised by any of this weird stuff happening to the island, you know?"

Molly frowned and nodded in understanding.

"But let's not talk about depressing stuff like that tonight," Kathy grinned, "We barely have people in here anymore, so tonight should be a happy night."

Molly glanced around the empty bar with a frown, "You guys weren't kidding about not having customers. And where's your dad and Selena?"

"Oh," Kathy laughed, rolling her eyes, "My dad's probably off watching TV in his room and I assume Selena's at the Inn or off gallivanting with Owen."

Molly didn't recognize the name. "Owen?"

"You know… _Owen_. Tall guy? Muscles like a Greek god?"

Molly shook her head, unable to call a face to the name.

Kathy giggled and sighed, "Well, you'd remember him if you met him, _trust_ me. Anyway, he lives up in the Garmon Mine District and he's Selena's newest flame – or whatever."

They both laughed. Chase appeared beside the table holding a tray; he set Molly's drink in front of her, a bottle and a glass with ice in front of Kathy, and a glass of brown liquid for himself. He tossed the tray on a nearby empty table before sitting back down in his seat. Molly sipped at her drink; it was _strong_.

"What'd I miss?" He leaned back in his chair and brought the glass of liquid to his lips.

"We were just discussing Selena's newest romp," Kathy spoke as she opened the bottle of whiskey and poured herself a glass.

"Oh, Owen," Chase muttered, shaking his head.

A mischievous smirk spread across the blonde's face.

"Chase here is just jealous because Selena's attention is temporarily off of him," Kathy whispered loudly to Molly, who giggled.

"What do you mean?" Molly asked.

"Selena's been eyeing him ever since she got here." Kathy leaned back smugly in her chair.

Chase rolled his eyes, "Oh, shut it, Kathy. You know I would _never_."

"But she seems like a nice girl…" Molly mused between sips of her drink.

"She is," Chase said stiffly, "But she's just… not my _type_."

"So then what _is_ your type, Chase-y?" Kathy asked as she leaned forward on the table, grinning with amusement.

"Not her," he replied flatly.

"Chase used to date the inn keepers' daughter, Maya. But they broke up a while ago," Kathy announced to Molly as she wore a dramatic pout; the blonde had already downed her first glass of whiskey.

Chase sighed, "She's nice but her childishness was grating on my nerves."

Molly glanced between the two with amusement.

"Since we're airing secrets: Kathy's been in love with Calvin since he showed up," Chase said with a wicked grin. Kathy flushed immediately and scowled.

"You're a bastard, Chase! You know that, right?" she cursed before pouring herself another glass of whiskey.

"Who's Calvin?" Molly inquired meekly; she felt like a stranger sitting in and listening to a bunch of inside jokes.

"_Who's Calvin_?" Kathy gasped incredulously. Molly only nodded.

"He's an archeologist who's been staying on the island for a while. He's been studying something or other up in the mines," Chase explained dismissively before polishing off his glass. He rose from his seat without explanation and walked back over to the bar.

"Calvin's really hot…" Kathy purred dreamily.

Molly stifled a giggle, "I'm sure he is. I wish I knew these guys you're talking about."

Chase appeared back at the table with two empty glasses. He set one in front of Molly – who had almost finished her vodka and cranberry – and one in front of himself.

"What about everyone else?" Molly asked vaguely as she watched Chase pour whiskey into both her and his glasses, "I mean, there seems like a lot of people around our age on the island. Who gets on with whom?"

Kathy chuckled. "Well, let's see…" she leaned back in her seat and pondered the question, "The Mayor's son, Gill, has been dating Candace for a while now -"

Molly's jaw dropped, "_He_ has a girlfriend? But… He seems so insufferable!"

Chase and Kathy both laughed.

"I know, right? She's so sweet and he can be such an ass! But it seems like he's really good to her, and you should see them when they're together. He's_ smitten_," Kathy explained with a grin.

Molly could feel her cheeks getting warm as they always did when she drank more than just a beer or two.

"Let's see… Who else…" Kathy mused, "Well, Luke was dating Selena briefly, but that ended months ago. Anissa's been with Doctor Jin for like, _three years_ already, so we're all just waiting for him to finally man up and ask her to marry him. It seems like Luna's been after Luke for a while, but she's still kind of young so I think he tries to keep away from her –"

"Or he's just too dense to notice," Chase offered with a smirk.

Molly scowled, "He's nice! I like Luke."

"Niceness doesn't negate that he's rather mindless," Chase reminded, to which Molly had to regretfully agree.

"And Renee and Toby have been dating for almost a year now, I think," Kathy finished her sentiment before taking to her glass as if it were water and she had just been rescued from a desert.

"What about you, then?" Chase asked to Molly, "We hardly know anything about you."

Chase's interest took the girl by surprise. Molly smiled meekly, staring down at her half-empty glass.

"Well, I was born and raised in a big city. I had a pretty standard childhood: two parents, went to public school – all that. I went to university to study Environmental Science and started working for SIHA before I even graduated."

Molly downed the remainder of her glass; talking about herself had always made her feel awkward and self-conscious.

"What was the city like?" Kathy asked with eager interest.

"Big and loud," Molly laughed as she watched Chase fill her glass again, "It's pretty nice being away from it, honestly."

"Do you have a boyfriend, then?" the blonde inquired; Kathy's censor seemed to have come unhinged with the consumption of alcohol.

"No," Molly admitted, shifting nervously in her chair and glancing over at Chase. "I had a boyfriend and a flat in the city but I left them both when I found out I was coming here."

Kathy frowned, "That's so sad!"

Giggling, Molly shook her head in disagreement. "No, I promise it's not as bad as it sounds. Things weren't going well between my ex and I and I'd always wanted to do a case like this. I like it here so far."

"So… You have to go back to the city after the case is done then?" Chase asked wearily.

"Yeah…" Molly frowned, as if realizing the answer to his question for the very first time, "I guess I do... I'm only supposed to be here for six months."

The three of them settled into silence before Kathy leaned over to refill Molly's glass and then her own. Lifting her glass into the air, the blonde grinned.

"Well then, to Molly!" Kathy announced proudly, "For coming to our shitty little island when things couldn't get worse!"

Chase and Molly both laughed and raised their glasses in cheers.

The sound of clinking glasses and the fiery taste of whiskey on her tongue was the last thing Molly remembered that night before everything faded to black.

* * *

><p>Molly Larsson awoke the following morning with a splitting headache and at the mercy of a strong wave of nausea. The worst part, however, was the fact that she wasn't in her own bed. Rather, the young woman opened her eyes to stare down at a big, black comforter of which she was nestled beneath. She shot up in bed – the sudden movement almost causing her to vomit – and stared around at the unfamiliar room; it was small with cream-colored walls and had little more than the large bed in which she laid, a large dark wooden dresser, and a matching desk. She was alone and the place in bed beside her was neatly made. Molly surveyed herself; aside from her jacket and boots, all her clothes from the previous night were still on – that was a good sign.<p>

Easing herself out of bed, she crept gingerly over to the door and pressed her ear against it. Outside she could hear the faint sound of a sizzling frying pan. She reached to the door handle and pushed the door open a crack – just enough to see the back of a head of reddish light-brown hair standing in the kitchen. It was Chase. Squinting against the light fruitlessly, she stepped out into his living room. He glanced over his shoulder and smirked at the sight of the rather disheveled looking girl in the bedroom doorway.

"Good morning, beautiful," he called sarcastically as he turned back to the frying pan on the stovetop.

"What are you doing?" she croaked miserably and wondered over to him.

"Making pancakes. I was going to make bacon, but I thought the smell might make you ill again."

Molly frowned and shook her aching head, which she instantly regretted.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she insisted defensively.

"I'm talking about what a fucking lightweight you are."

Molly opened her mouth to speak, but an annoyed remark failed to leave her lips.

"What the hell happened?" she settled on instead, rubbing at her tired eyes which were smeared with day-old make-up.

"We drank until late and I was walking back with you but you got sick. I didn't want to leave you at your place when you were obviously blacked out," he flipped a pancake in the frying pan; he seemed particularly annoyed, "People die that way, you know."

"Thanks…" she muttered, seeming equally irritated though she probably should have been grateful, "Where did you sleep?"

"On the couch."

Molly glanced over to the rather small couch in front of a television; indeed there was one measly blanket and a pillow on it.

"Oh…" She murmured before ambling over to the couch and curling up miserably with the blanket. Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, she tried not to focus on the pounding in her head. Molly didn't care how pathetic she looked – she was too nauseous and in too much pain to worry.

"Here."

Molly opened her eyes to see a glass of water with a fizzing antacid tablet dissolving inside and two white aspirin beside it on the coffee table in front of her. Chase was already walking back to the small kitchen. She shifted into a sitting position and took the pills before laying back down.

Eventually Chase appeared again, setting down a plate of several pancakes topped with melting butter. Molly only groaned at the sight as Chase seated himself beside her on the couch.

"You shouldn't drink so much if you get sick so easily," he said flatly as he switched on the television – which was barely audible – and turned to the news station.

"I know, it was stupid," Molly admitted. This response seemed to take Chase by surprise. He glanced over at her.

"I don't usually drink very often. I worked so much in the city, you know. And… and I could be pulled from the case or be suspended from my job if they found out I'm doing stuff like that over here." She stared blankly at the television screen, her voice quiet. Her entire presence on Castanet Island was, after all, her _job_. Getting drunk with the people she was supposed to be helping wasn't exactly _professional_.

"They won't," Chase responded simply.

They sat in silence, both staring at the television though their minds were elsewhere.

"I don't want to go back to the city yet…" her voice was barely above a whisper, "I wasn't very happy there."

Chase gave a puzzled look at her sudden admission and lifted a hand to shift the bangs from his eyes. His jaw and the sides of his face were slightly darkened by stubble, which Molly found, for some reason, very sexy.

"Are you happy here?" he asked.

Molly pondered this for a moment before sighing. "_Happier_, I think. It's different… It's a change."

"I see… How are you feeling?"

It was the first time Molly could remember Chase looking genuinely concerned.

"Like complete shit and really, really embarrassed," she groaned miserably. Wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders and slumped over to rest her head against his leg. Chase didn't move nor comment on their contact.

"I didn't make a complete fool of myself last night, did I?" Her question was meek and cautious.

He chuckled softly and shook his head. "Molly, I work at a bar. I see people being drunken jackasses all the time. You were fine, you just had too much."

"Good…" she mumbled before closing her eyes and waiting for the aspirin to kick in.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, Rune and MayumiL! :)


	8. Chapter 7: Into the Forest

**Chapter Seven**  
><strong>Into the Forest<strong>

Days passed, but the snow that blanketed Castanet Island persisted. Molly had tried to keep mostly to herself following the incident with Chase, though she was the only one between the two of them who seemed bothered by it. She busied herself with her livestock and burying her attention in several dense textbooks she had brought along to the island regarding environmental science – it seemed pertinent to brush up on her studies from university as it was fair to reason that some of the information stuffed into her brain from school had slipped between the cracks in the excitement of her graduation. The books, however, did not provide the miraculous revelation that she had hoped for; rather they only seemed to cement the idea that Castanet Island was an anomaly even amongst many of the most bizarre and extraordinary cases of environmental phenomena. There were several cases, most having occurred decades before, that seemed almost to match the unusualness of the case she was assigned to, though the information on those appeared strangely scarce and of no real help to identify what was happening on the island she resided on.

Interviews with Ramsey, the blacksmith, Ozzie, the Fishery shop owner, and Craig, the farmer who tended to the crops on Mariamba Farm (or rather, used to before the soil became completely unbalanced and unsuitable for plants), yielded no new leads or profound information, though it did help Molly to feel at least somewhat productive. She kept her files up-to-date and her personal journal filled with recounts of her days on the island and her thoughts on the people who lived there. It was only in her personal journal that she confessed the full extent of her interactions with and perceptions of Wizard; in her official folder designated to the man which would eventually be surrendered to her overseeing organization, she keep the information as vague as seem appropriate, which was to say that the file was almost completely empty and detailed the young man the way everyone else on the island seemed to have: as simply a 'fortune teller'. How close or far from the truth that actually was was still something Molly struggled with constantly. A battle between her brain and her heart kept her cautiously skeptical yet left her with an indismissible desire to know more.

Roughly a week and a half following the first morning of sudden snowfall, the white blanket had diminished enough for Molly to deem it time to pay her visit to Wizard on the pretense of the promise he had made to her during their previous exchange. White clumps of snow still littered the ground here and there and the soil was still too firm with frost to ask Anissa over to help plant her first seeds, but the anticipation for her trip with Wizard to meet Witch Princess had reached a climax and waiting any longer seemed impossible.

Dressing appropriately for the venture – a dark grey hooded sweatshirt beneath a black leather jacket to keep her especially warm, a pair of dark jeans, and two socks on each foot inside her dark red riding boots –she finished her morning obligations quickly before heading off to Harmonica Town. It was still shy of ten o'clock in the morning by the time Wizard's front door came into sight. She knocked this time without hesitation, finding it easier and less nerve-wracking with every visit.

Wizard opened the door after a few moments wait. He was dressed in the same black turtleneck she had seen him wear before, a pair of dark pants, and pointed-toe boots. He blinked in surprise at the sight of the girl on his doorstep.

"Molly," he said lightly.

"Good morning. I thought since the snow's finally melted, I'd come take you up on your offer to go see Witch Princess with me."

She was smiling cutely, her voice melodic and excited. Wizard seemed to consider this proposition with his characteristic blank stare.

He glanced to his left and nodded in the direction of a pile of snow that was accumulated in a nearby corner of the cobblestone street, "What's that?"

Molly followed his gaze to the cluster of white and frowned.

"Snow," she said flatly, before adding with pointed haste and frustration, "But it's just a little! The streets are all clear – it's _basically_ all melted now."

Wizard studied her defiant expression for a long, drawn-out moment before his lips contorted into an amused smirk.

"Alright," he announced finally before stepping aside to allow her in.

Molly face broke back into a grin as she stepped into his home, turning to face him expectantly.

"I need… hmmm… coat and my bag…" Wizard mused softly, more to himself than to Molly.

He walked over, plucked his dark purple coat off the back of one of his dining chairs, and pulled it on. His heterochromic eyes surveyed the room before landing on a small black cloth satchel beside one of the large stacks of thick literature against one wall. Picking it up, he pulled it over his head so that the long strap crossed diagonally against his chest and the seemingly empty bag came to rest on his hip. When his attention turned back to Molly, she was watching him with apparent fascination. One of his eyebrows twitched up curiously.

"Ready…?" he asked.

Molly was already making way for the door before she could answer. Wizard followed slowly behind.

Once outside, he produced a silver key from his coat pocket and proceeded to lock the multitude of locks he had on his door. Molly considered questioning him about it, but decided otherwise as the tanned-skinned man turned and started off down the street. As they passed by the side of the tailoring shop, Molly caught sight of Candace and Luna at the bottom of the incline, staring at her and Wizard with gaping mouths and wide, incredulous eyes; Molly got the feeling that it wasn't often Wizard left his home, much less associated with anyone in particular. The young woman only smiled and waved shyly at the sisters as she walked by them.

Proceeding out of the town and onto the dirt road, Molly paused as they reached the edge of her farmland. Wizard glanced curiously back at her as he too came to a stop.

"That's where I live," Molly announced with a touch of pride, though the place still looked just as run-down as it had weeks ago on the day she first arrived.

Wizard turned to look at the sight of the farmhouse in the distance.

"Do you… like it there?" He asked as he resumed walking again.

Molly fell back into pace beside him, staring down at the dirt road that was crunching beneath her boots.

"Yeah, I do. I thought moving to a place like this and trying to live on a farm was going to be awful, but I'm actually kind of enjoying it. I've never done anything like this before," she replied thoughtfully.

They walked in silence all the way to the Flute Fields district, Molly's thoughts ricocheting between various subjects ranging from the complex ideation of tropospheric ozone formation to the more mundane decision of what she was going to make for dinner that evening. It wasn't until the Fugue Forest came into sight that the silence was broken between them.

"Do you know your way through the Fugue Forest?" Molly asked cautiously.

Wizard looked over to her with a touch of surprise.

"Of course."

Molly smiled nervously.

"I'm sorry. It's just… Last time I went into the forest, I got pretty lost. I probably would have died in there if Luke hadn't found me," she admitted melodramatically and with a touch of shame and embarrassment in her words.

Wizard smirked and shook his head, the single silver braid in one side of his hair swishing back and forth as he did so.

"I go to the forest… to collect ingredients. Luke is often there… swinging his axe. He's obnoxious…"

Molly enjoyed the fleeting glimpses of Wizard's humor she got to see from time to time in contrast with his usual impassive demeanor.

"Why does everyone say that about him?" she laughed.

"Because it's true."

She stifled another giggled, shaking her head. Her amusement, however, was quickly suffocated as a creeping nervousness and inkling of doubt ebbed its way into her mind as the first looming, sinister trees that framed the entrance of the forest. What was Witch Princess going to be like? Would she be upset on account of their sudden and very-much unannounced little visit? Molly recalled the vague comment Wizard had made – though offhanded and amused – about why he hadn't visited Witch Princess for quite some time.

"Are you… scared?" Wizard asked softly.

Molly looked up at him, studying the touch of concern on his face that pulled his eyebrows together and tugged the corners of his lips down just ever-so slightly. She was surprised at his level of perceptiveness.

"No," she lied with feigned confidence and a convincing little smirk. Not convincing enough, perhaps.

"Don't worry," He reassured.

Fugue Forest was a labyrinth of thick trees with dense foliage, bushes and shrubbery both with the appearance of sinister and not-so sinister intents, and rocks that varied in size from tiny pebbles to large watermelons lodged in the dirt. Being in the forest truly felt like being in a different world; it swallowed them. Despite being her second time venturing into the maze, and this time in experienced company, she still found the place exceptionally intimidating.

She followed along beside Wizard so closely that their coats often brushed together and she even managed to bump into him on more than just a few occasions. He would only turn to smile lightly down to her, a gesture that provided her reassurance lasting anywhere between fifteen to forty-three seconds. Eventually she chose to fill the nervous silence with questions.

"Where were you born?" she asked as she hopped carefully over a thick, snake-like root that was protruding from the dirt – perhaps that had been the very one that landed her on her back the last time she wandered into the forest, though there were countless just like it.

"I don't… remember," he replied softly, not taking his focused eyes off the path in front of him.

Whether or not this was true, Molly couldn't discern; she couldn't imagine a person not knowing where they were born.

"Oh…" she murmured dejectedly, burying her hands deep in the pockets of her leather jacket. "Well, do you remember where you grew up?"

Wizard remained silent for some time, warranting a curious stare from Molly.

"I spent a very… long time in a place called Continent Flower. That is… where I first learned magic," he explained.

Molly contemplated this for a few minutes.

"So, you weren't born knowing magic?"

Wizard shook his head as they turned sharply and walked down an especially narrow path.

"No… I was born… half human… half wizard. This is why… I wasn't born with the knowledge of magic… yet still possessed the capacity for it. I studied under my Master for many years, until…" His voice trailed off and his expression pained slightly; Molly didn't press the matter further.

"Is that why...?" Molly prodded under one of her own eyes with her index finger.

Wizard observed the gesture, tilting his head curiously. "You mean… my eyes?"

She nodded sheepishly.

"Yes," he confirmed, followed by an awkward silence.

Molly resumed her questions when the silence became too much to bear.

"So then… How old are you?"

Wizard seemed to either struggle or hesitate with this one, which made the young woman nervous that she may have touched a nerve or found another taboo subject, just as his true name had been the day they first met.

"You wouldn't… believe me if I told you," he insisted with an amused smile.

Grinning, she rolled her eyes. "Try me."

"One hundred and twelve."

All at once, Molly felt winded.

"W-What? Excuse me…?" she stammered incredulously.

"I am not as old as the Harvest Goddess… or Witch Princess," he assured, though it was to no real reassurance.

"I… I don't understand. You don't look like you could be a day over twenty-six!" she accused.

"I have… the body of a twenty-four year-old man but… I do not physically age," he explained calmly and with such matter-of-fact casualness that Molly felt overwhelmingly confused and alarmed.

"Ever?" Her voice was becoming slightly shrill.

Wizard simply shook his head, "I'm immortal."

Molly came to an abrupt halt at the statement. Wizard slowed his pace before stopping and turning to look at the young woman with her wide, light-brown eyes and dazed expression.

"So…" she started in a murmur, "You won't die… _Ever_?"

Wizard motioned her forward and she obliged, stumbling clumsily back into pace beside him.

"There are… _certain_ ways for me to meet my end… But they are few and far between."

Molly stewed over this in silence, her thoughts buzzing so quickly in her brain that she couldn't seem to formulate a proper reaction to the news – if doing so was even possible at all.

Before she could even dare to pose any more questions, Wizard turned suddenly and approached a small mushroom growing from the forest floor. Its cap was a plum-like purple and covered with vibrant pink spots and unlike any of the other mushrooms Molly had noticed emerging from the forest's damp and unusually warm floor. Wizard plucked the mushroom gingerly and placed it into the small black bag that was slung across his chest. Without word or explanation, he resumed his lead through the forest.

It was only moments later that they approached a tall door. Made from decaying, uneven wooden planks that were half-swallowed by moss, an old, weathered-looking sign was nailed onto it with a poorly drawn skull-and-crossbones and the words 'DO NOT ENTER' (with the 'R' written backwards) beneath it in equally sloppy handwriting.

"Are you… ready?" Wizard asked monotonously.

Molly glanced up at him. Was she? She couldn't ever be, really. That moment was as good as any.

"Yeah," she lied.

Wizard pushed the door open, which creaked and groaned on its rusted hinges. Into view came a small house in the distance, in the middle of the circular clearing. The trees that surrounded the area were especially dense and the light quite scarce, giving the entire sight an ominous feel; the mote that snaked around the house didn't feel particularly inviting either.

Molly lifted a hand to grab a fistful of the sleeve of Wizard's purple coat, gripping so tightly that her knuckles turned white. He glanced over to observe the gesture.

"We can leave," he offered, void of persuasion or mock.

"No," she squeaked, shaking her head rapidly.

Wizard didn't ask again, but rather led her forward. The air was thick and musky and had a strong, earthly smell. Molly noticed a large tortuous grazing on blades of unkempt grass at a comically slow speed. They approached the edge of the mote which had a narrow path of flat stones protruding from the water and leading to the other side.

"You go first… so I can catch you if you slip," Wizard instructed, to which Molly could only nod.

Stepping forward cautiously onto the first stone, she paused and attempted fruitlessly to calm her nerves and steady her quivering fingertips. It was never going to help, she knew, so rather she took to stumbling forward at a foolishly quick pace, the heels of her boots clicking against each rock. She reached the other side and hopped onto the safety of the grass, turning back to smile with great pride and accomplishment at Wizard, who was strolling effortlessly across the stones behind her. He led her then in silence to the front door of the house and without hesitation or concern, lifted a hand and knocked lightly on the front door. Molly stood, half-hidden behind the protection of Wizard and her heart beating erratically in her chest. The beat seemed to falter and then skip once completely as the doorknob turned and someone behind the door yanked it open.

Framed in the doorway was a short and petite, young (looking) woman of whom Molly would guess was about her own age. Her hair was long with blunt bangs across her forehead and appeared to be the same silver color as Wizard's. Unlike Wizard though, both of her eyes were the same color – her particular shade being a vibrant, electric yellow – and her skin was quite fair. Her thin eyebrows had been perfectly groomed into high arches that gave her the appearance of a permanent scowl. She was clad in an unusual black bodice, a very short black cape that tied in a large satin bow across her collarbones, poofy stripped shorts, thigh-high leggings, domineering-looking boots, and a tall, pointed black hat on her head. She was glowering at them.

"Go away," she snapped before slamming the door in their faces, the sound echoing off the surrounding trees.

Wizard didn't seem to miss a beat as he lifted his hand and knocked once more. After a moment, the door swung open again.

"I need… to speak to you," Wizard announced pointedly.

Witch Princess let out a loud, dramatic and exceptionally annoyed sigh.

"Come in!" she huffed with great resentment and stepped aside to allow them in.

Molly clutched another fistful of the back of Wizard's coat and followed behind him as he entered. The house was circular with off-white walls, dark hardwood flooring, a large pink rug, and pieces of girly-looking furniture scattered about. The sound of the door slamming behind them caused Molly to jump and whirl around to look at the angry woman.

"What do you want?" she seethed, crossing her arms against her ample, perky chest. Witch Princess looked only at Wizard.

"This island is in trouble. Have you noticed?" Wizard asked smoothly.

Witch Princess scowled and waved her hand dismissively.

"No. Why would I care about something like that?" Her lids drooped in haughty disinterest as she spoke, seeming already bored with the subject.

"The people… are suffering," Wizard continued.

"_So_?" Witch retorted with a twitch of her brow.

"I think the Harvest Goddess… is in trouble," Wizard said.

It was only then that the woman's fiery gaze flicked over to Molly, who was standing shyly beside Wizard.

"_And you bring her into all of this_?" Witch screamed, which caused a lump to form immediately in Molly's throat.

"She's trying to help," Wizard explained with the same calm collectiveness, as if they were merely discussing the weather over a cup of tea.

"_SHE'S A HUMAN_!" Witch screeched shrilly.

The silver-haired woman lurched forward suddenly, advancing right for Molly. In one swift motion, Wizard stepped forward and outstretched his arm to shield the cowering human girl.

"_Hå rö komarinteatt skadden här tejan_."

The house shook slightly as Wizard's words reverberated off the walls, loud and threatening. Molly stared up at the sliver of his profile she could see from her place behind his protective arm; his expression was wild and enraged, so unlike she had seen him before. The actual meaning behind what he had said in a language so unlike any she had heard before, Molly couldn't even begin to guess. Witch Princess, however, seemed to understand as she halted and watched him cautiously, contemplating his words.

"Fine," she purred cooly as she crossed her arms against her busom once more, "But what could you possibly want from me?"

"Information," Wizard replied, returning to his usual calm and emotionless tone as his outstretched arm dropped slowly back to his side.

Molly cleared her throat softly and stepped forward to Wizard's side.

"We don't know what could be wrong wrong with the Harvest Goddess to cause all this and we were hoping you might know something," Molly explained, as confidently as her voice would allow.

Witch's gaze flicked over to Molly for a mere second before settling back on Wizard with an annoyed expression.

"Well, I'm sorry to _disappoint_, but I don't know anything about it," she drawled.

"Any ideas then?" Molly squeaked.

"Oh, I don't _know_," Witch was speaking directly to Wizard, despite the question having been asked by Molly, "Have you stopped to think yet that it might be _You-Know-Who_?" Witch's tone implied that whatever she was talking about should have already been clearly obvious to them.

"_You-Know-Who_?" Molly's features contorted in confusion as she looked up to Wizard's expressionless face.

"Oh, what do you _humans_ call him again...?" Witch mused bitterly to herself and placed a hand under her chin in thought. "Oh yes, the Harvest King!"

Wizard frowned at the name.

"I see..." he murmured. Placing a hand on the small of Molly's back, he nodded sternly to Witch Princess, "That will be all for now... Thank you."

Without another word from any of them, Wizard led Molly out the front door of the house. The entire exchange had left Molly bewildered and confused.

As they approached the stone path leading across the mote, Molly leaned over and whispered to him, "Who's the 'Harvest King'?"

A look of concern etched suddenly onto Wizard's face.

"The only person who hates humans more than Witch Princess."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Thank you again to Rune and MayumiL for the reviews on my last chapter! I hope everyone is enjoying this story so far.


	9. Chapter 8: A Rising Fever

**Chapter Eight**  
><strong>A Rising Fever<strong>

It took almost a week following the melting of the snow for the soil to defrost and rise back to a temperate considered reasonable to plant in. In those days following the trip into the Fugue Forest, Molly had neither heard from nor seen Wizard. Either he wasn't home and had disappeared on some sort of sabbatical, or he was locked up in his house and blatantly ignoring her – which of these, she couldn't discern. All she knew was that he never answered when she knocked and she couldn't hear any sort of movement beyond the thick wooden door she so creepily pressed her ear against. There was no warning, no note left behind, no hints nor comforts of an explanation. She tried not to let it bother her, but in truth, it did.

Her focus was directed to clearing the last of the main field outside her modest farmhouse and caring for the animals that had been provided to her. It was much to her dismay when she quickly found herself growing ill; it started as a dull ache in her head and a constant pressure in her ears that made her feel like she was twelve feet underwater. The aches spread to her body within a few days and the labor of farm work, though modest, began to feel easily twenty times more strenuous than it should have. Molly, being the stubborn little firecracker that she was, refused to let a little illness take her down. She continued to work and question the townsfolk and learn whatever she could absorb about the island during the day and conduct her research and update her files in the evenings.

She spent an afternoon with Perry after having returned the dense book about the Harvest Goddess she had borrowed from him and the church. He preached to her a private sermon – though it wasn't even a Sunday – while Molly sat in the front pew and listened with the ears not of a believer, but of the critical, logical, but also violently interested skeptic that she was. It in and of itself was research to her; she took notes while he spoke with passionate conviction about the Goddess and her love for the people of the island and their unwavering devotion to her, in times of good and in current times of peril. They prayed together at the end and Molly left feeling calm but confused.

The better half of an entire day was spent 'interviewing' Ozzie, the local fisherman and the owner of the Harmonica Fishery shop. He was a middle-aged, short man of Asian descent with a comically square head and worn-out clothes that seemed to permanently ooze the smell of fish. Molly sat at a table with him in the Ocarina Inn and indulged in two plates of alfredo made by Yolanda, the cook at the Inn whose talents rivaled and perhaps did not surpass those of Chase, while trying to take notes on the man's erratic train of thought. The subject seemed to ricochet between anecdotal stories from his childhood, to highly personal questions he kept asking of Molly, to hushed town gossip – most of which the girl had already been bombarded with by Kathy. From time to time, Molly was able to successfully extract a tidbit of useful information and notes to add into her next case report in two weeks. Most notably, Ozzie described how all the fish had quite literally vanished from the ocean that was covered by the cloud above them. He had to take his old, modest little fishing boat out past the greedy shade of the mysterious blanket in the sky each day in order to catch anything. "It's as if the fish are _afraid_ to come here," he had said.

Most of her lunches were eaten at the Brass Bar in the late afternoon. Molly had discovered Chase's bouillabaisse and fallen instantly in love with the recipe. Chase was happy – or at least not completely annoyed and resentful – to make a bowl up for her each day. Sometimes he took a break from work (not that there was ever anyone else in the bar besides Dale, Ramsey, Luke or Cain on occasion) to sit and talk trivialities with her, but mostly he putted back off to the back kitchen or outside to smoke. Her meals were never lonely though, as Kathy was always there to fill the silence with gossip or stories or fawning over Calvin and his muscles and his perfectly sculpted face. Molly had seen Calvin, finally, outside the Ocarina Inn one afternoon where he was strumming at his guitar as filling the little seaside town with beautiful but somber music. He was, in fact, quite beautiful; a chiseled face with strong, manly bone structure, a head of attractively unkempt dirty blonde locks poking out from beneath his dark brown Stetson hat, and a strong, muscular frame. It was almost comical how much he looked as if he had just walked out of a movie. He was painfully off-limits though, she knew, considering how much one of her closest friends was pining for him. Of course, that was if she could even date at all, which she couldn't. Attempting to remain as professional as possible had to be one of her top priorities on the case – it was too easy to slip into the mentality that she was just another girl and could do whatever she wanted while she was on the island. Her dilemma was only made more difficult by the fact that she was surrounded by so many young people around her age, and many of the men were achingly attractive.

When it finally came time for the field to be planted, Anissa arrived on Molly's front doorstep. The woman was beautiful, standing a few inches taller than Molly and surpassing her by only three years of age but possessing a gentle, maternal kind of maturity. Anissa was soft-spoken, warm, and wise without pretension. She wore a loose-fitting lilac sweater, a navy blue shawl draped around her shoulders, and a pair of jeans and boots to work in. Her dark brown hair fell all the way down to the small of her back and she had a single beauty mark dotted beneath her left eye. Several hefty bags of fertilizer and pouches of tomato, onion, corn, spinach, and kale seeds had been donated so generously from Marimba Farm, her family's business.

Molly felt weak and feverish but she refused to allow her own state to delay the planting of her field any further than the abrupt snowfall already had. Anissa patiently explained the different crops, which ones grew in which season, how to spread fertilizer, how deep to plant the seeds, how often to water and how much was too much water for the crops each day. Molly listened, her mind sometimes trailing off but generally doing her best to remain focused despite feeling like her head was floating somewhere in the clouds. Once the explanations were finished, Anissa helped Molly to mix the soil supplements SIHA had sent over to her in her first rations into the fertilizer. The supplements came in twelve glass vials filled with a liquid the color of cherry cough syrup that smelled like something between a rotting egg and a decomposing fish. Molly, with hands and knees growing continually weaker, then began to spread the fertilizer throughout the field while Anissa planted the seeds in perfectly neat rows behind her in the area Molly had just covered.

"Do you think this has a good chance of working?" Anissa asked quietly as she planted a row of tomato seeds.

Molly sighed, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. Her body felt like it was on fire. "I don't know… It's the best thing we can try though."

They fell into thoughtful silence for some time before Anissa posed another question.

"Wouldn't it be possible to start growing crops inside? What if we just built some giant greenhouses?"

"That would be possible and it _would_ work," Molly said with a frown, pausing from the fertilizer to watch the woman kneeling a few feet away, "but the building would be expensive and the amount of artificial light that would be needed… It would be all incredibly costly. I think SIHA is trying to find a way for this island to be able to sustain itself as much as possible without having to go to such extreme measures. If these supplements work the way the scientists who made them think they will, then your family should be able to just add them to your soil and fertilizer and, _ideally_, be able to grow crops just like before."

Anissa smiled a sad, gentle smile. "I hope it's that easy."

Molly smiled back weakly. "I hope so too, Anissa."

The curl of Anissa's thin, pink lips gradually straightened as she studied the face of the girl standing just a few feet away.

"Do you feel alright, Molly?" she asked gently.

"I feel fine." A lie.

"Are you sure? You're looking pretty pale…"

Molly shook her head slowly. "That's just my skin color." In truth, her heart was beating rather unevenly in her chest and she was having a touch of trouble focusing her eyes. "Maybe I just need…" she drew in a deep, uneven breath, "to sit down… for a moment."

Anissa stood slowly, taking a cautious step towards the other girl who was staring down at the brown leather gardening gloves on her hands, a perplexed look on her bloodless face.

All at once the ground came much more abruptly than Molly would have liked as her knees buckled and gave out beneath her. She didn't even remember hitting the ground.

* * *

><p><em>Blackness.<em>

_There was a shrill scream from far away, a flash of poppy red and orange. The world, or lack thereof, trembled. A red eye, a sliver of jawline was illuminated by a single streak of light from an indeterminate source._

_A voice spoke softly, pleading from the darkness. It was familiar, but the language indecipherable._

_Another voice followed – deep, extrinsic, and powerful; the atmosphere threatened to crumble at the very sound. The words were in English, but they never had a chance for fruition._

* * *

><p>The smell of dirt tickled her nose as a blur of grays and browns struggled in and out of focus above her. Molly heard the soft voice of a woman and it took a few moments to realize that her name was being spoken. Her lips parted to speak but what managed to come out were little more than incoherent babbles and guttural noises.<p>

"It's ok, Molly. Cain is on his way to take you to the clinic. Just hold on. Can you understand me?" Anissa was speaking hastily.

"I'm fine," Molly groaned, not quite sure if the words had really come out or not.

"Don't be foolish! You're burning up and you just fainted. Oh, I wish you would have told me you weren't feeling well… Oh, there's Cain now!"

There was a loud rumbling in the distance, growing progressively louder; her sluggish, feverish mind couldn't begin to piece together what was going on and place such an unusual noise. Molly squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember what had just happened, but nothing came to her.

It wasn't until the Choral Clinic that Molly regained complete awareness. As the world phased in and out, she finally came to realize that she was lying in a hospital bed and there was something wet and cold on her forehead. The metallic, sterile smell so indicative of hospitals was making her even more nauseous than her illness. A long light was mounted on the ceiling directly above her, bright and fluorescent and assaulting on her eyes. She squinted against it and turned to spot Doctor Jin seated at a nearby desk. He was dressed in his usual white and overly starched doctor's coat and his small, half-mooned spectacles were perched on the end of his small nose. A pen in his right hand was doing a war dance over a page of forms and a permanent frown seemed etched across his thin lips.

"What the fuck…" Molly croaked, bringing a hand up to inspect the source of coolness on her face. It was a cold, wet rag.

Doctor Jin glanced over with a serious gaze. "You're awake," he said.

"I am."

"How do you feel?" He set the pen down and moved closer to begin taking her pulse.

"Weird."

"Do you remember what happened?" He stared down at his watch as he spoke, silently counting the beats.

"No."

"You passed out."

"Oh."

"You have a very severe fever." He returned to his desk to jot down the number.

"Hm."

"Would you like some water?"

Molly licked at her dry lips. "Sure."

Doctor Jin stood from his chair, walking momentarily out of the room. Molly, with great effort, shifted into a sitting position. In the doctor's absence and her feverish, altered state, she found herself contemplating what she could possibly throw up to try and shatter the aggressive bulb directly above her.

The doctor returned with a single white paper cup in hand. He held it down to her and then produced two white pills from the palm of his other hand. She accepted both offerings, placing the pills on her tongue without question and gulping them down with a mouthful of ice-cold water from the waxy cup.

"You have a visitor. Shall I let them in or would you care to rest?"

Molly considered this for a moment, leaning back against a lumpy pillow. She could only assume it was Anissa, or perhaps Cain if he had opted to stick around during the indeterminate time she had checked out of consciousness there in the hospital. "Let them in, I guess."

The doctor disappeared again and Molly tilted her head back to further contemplate the light. She felt strange and a little nauseous, as if she were in some kind of vivid dream that felt real but noticeably peculiar at the same time.

"You're alive."

Molly glanced over to see Chase in the doorway, smirking. He was all tousled auburn locks and five o'clock shadow. He still had an apron from the bar – blue – tied over his black button up, sleeves pushed up over his elbows to reveal his lightly tanned forearms.

Molly returned the smile. "Or something close to that, I suppose."

He walked over, grabbing a nearby chair and pulling it up beside her bed.

She wondered how he had known she was there but was too nervous to hear the likely embarrassing answer, so she never asked. "Where'd Anissa go?" she inquired instead.

"Back to your farm," he explained, "to finish planting whatever you guys were planting, I guess. You should have seen her – she was completely freaking out."

"Why?"

Chase rolled his eyes. "Maybe because you scared the shit out of her? People don't usually like it when other people randomly drop to the ground."

"_Oh_," she muttered sarcastically. "How'd I get here?"

"Cain brought you in his carriage."

"How long was I out for?"

"You slept for almost an hour."

"Hm."

"Feeling better, then?"

Molly sighed and pulled the cold cloth from her forehead, tossing it onto the blanket that was covering her still feverish body. "I feel pretty weird," she admitted with a shrug. "And this blanket is itchy and I hate hospitals."

"Jin says you're sick. He thinks it's the flu."

Yawning, Molly rubbed at her eyes before blinking and turning to look at him again. "I'm probably contagious, you know. You shouldn't be here."

Chase chuckled and shrugged. "I'd like an excuse to take a few days off work. Speaking of which, why the hell were you working if you're sick?"

"I had stuff to do." She had turned her attention to her hands and was chipping away at the nail polish on her right thumbnail absentmindedly.

"Are you _stupid_?" he snapped with an abrupt spark of anger that took the girl by surprise.

She shot an annoyed glare at back him. "No, I'm just busy. I don't exactly have _time_ to be sick."

Chase studied her face for a long moment before softening and leaning back in his chair. "Well, you need to take a break or you're really going to mess yourself up."

Molly sighed and slid down in the old hospital cot, laying her head back down against the pillow. She could feel a few pointy ends of feathers poking her through the starchy fabric. "I can't take a break… I have animals who need me and a field to water now."

"Kathy and I can take care of all that for a while," he insisted without hesitation. "It's not like you have a whole barn full. Kathy's always over at Horn Ranch with Renee, so I'm sure she knows something about taking care of livestock. And besides, if _you_ can do it, how hard can it be?" He was smirking playfully.

Molly rolled her eyes and laughed as much as her weak body would allow. "You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know that?"

Chase grinned slickly. "It's part of my charm."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Kind of a short chapter. I feel like I might be running into a touch of writer's block :( Or maybe writing my recent 5k - 6k chapters in one sitting it just getting tiring, haha. I think I'm going to try doing some slightly shorter chapters (back to ~3k - 4k) for a while, but update more frequently? How does that sound? I could always just write the chapters in more than one sitting, but it's easier for me to get a whole chapter 'out of my head' rather than halfway done and trying to come back to it. I hope this wasn't too bad though. Thank you Rune, Momoka Ribbon, pbwcookmark and Dahlia Derbyshire for the reviews since my last chapter! Also, I totally agree with your comment about that scene in the prologue, Dahlia! Thank you for pointing that out to me :) I extended that part just a touch - I feel like it could be extended even more, but I think it reads much better now than it did before.


	10. Chapter 9: Indecision

**Chapter Nine**  
><strong>Indecision<em><br>_**

_June 5th_

_It took me two days to convince Doctor Jin to let me go home. He's so serious all the time that it's almost comical. I think he was afraid that I'd just go right back to the farm and start doing my work again right away before I'm fully well. Honestly, I would have if Chase wasn't breathing down my neck like a dragon or some kind of overbearing mother. He comes in the early morning to water the field for me and bring me homemade soup, and he's recruited Kathy to stop by in the afternoon to feed the animals. I guess I shouldn't complain because it's quite sweet of him to do so, it's just that I feel so useless lying around and not actually doing anything of importance. I've been trying to catch up on some reading, but I feel chronically tired still so I've been spending way too much of my time laying on the couch and watching television. They don't exactly have the widest array of channels, but it's not so bad. I called Phil to tell him I'm sick and he gave me a lecture about not wasting time. If only he'd met Chase, then he'd understand that I don't exactly have a choice…_

* * *

><p>It was just another lazy afternoon of Molly stewing in fever and misery. Marking the fourth day since her incident in the field and subsequent trip to the Choral Clinic, she was more than upset that she wasn't somehow miraculously better yet. Each morning she stood in front of one of the big windows of her farmhouse, a bowl of fresh, piping hot soup in her hands and a large comforter draped around her shoulders. She'd stand and watch the petulant chef snake through the rows of seeds with an over-sized tin watering can. His brows were always furrowed in thoughtful concentration as he worked. After he left each day, Molly would return to her couch and bury her face in a dense book or switch on the television if she was feeling particularly mindless.<p>

On that afternoon, with the curtains all pulled back and the garish midday light pouring through the windows, Molly was curled beneath a large purple comforter on the long navy blue couch that was positioned in front of the old television set in the living room. Her short hair was pulled into a small ponytail and her lounge attire was such: a black v-neck, red sweatpants, and two mismatched socks, white and blue. The room was silent and a thick book was propped open in her lap: _Paleoclimatology and Ancient Environments_. She was halfway through a chapter on stratigraphy when a light knock came at her front door. Shifting to peer over the back of the couch towards the door, she contemplated whether or not to actually get up and answer it; she was so toasty warm and still achingly sore.

Luckily it wasn't necessary for her to rise, as the door pushed open and in strolled the blonde-haired, green-eyed Kathy Talbot and the pink-haired, blue-eyed Luna Martin. Luna was considerably shorter than Kathy and even shorter than Molly. She had a round, youthful but quite beautiful face, a forehead of bangs, and two large, thick pigtails of powder-pink mounted high on her head that cascaded down to her shoulders in perfect glossy curls. Dressed in a poofy, pastel blue dress and a dark red sweater, she looked considerably more childish when contrasted against Kathy's short red skirt and black shirt that dipped just low enough to offer an eyeful of perky white cleavage.

"Hey guys," Molly croaked from the couch. "What're you doing here?"

"We came to keep you company!" Kathy beamed as she walked over with Luna. The two girls plopped themselves on either side of the feverish young woman.

"What're you reading?" Luna chimed in her high-pitched voice. She reached over to snatch the heavy book out of Molly's hands, closing it to inspect the cover. Reading the title, she pulled a disgusted face. "This looks boring."

"It's interesting," Molly insisted gently, easing the book back out of the girl's fingers and setting it down on the coffee table in front of them.

"Are you feeling any better?" Kathy asked.

"No, not really," Molly admitted.

"Did Chase come by this morning?" the blonde inquired as she leaned back into the plush old couch.

"Yeah, at nine again, just like clockwork. He brought me a creamy tomato and basil soup today. It was great."

"You guys are so funny," Kathy smirked, shaking her head.

Molly frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing," Kathy insisted with a light laugh.

Molly glanced over to Luna on her other side, who was smiling cutely.

"How's the bar been? Getting any customers?" Molly asked with her attention back on Kathy.

"Yeah, a few. Craig's been coming in the past few nights. I think he's been fighting with his wife."

"Craig's a mean old drunk," Luna announced with a frown.

"That's so said," Molly said quietly. "Anissa's so sweet, too."

"Yeah…" Kathy mumbled with a sigh before perking back up. "But besides that, it's been slow. We miss you stopping in for lunch."

Molly smiled, shaking her head. "I'll be better soon, I promise. I want to go out, but Chase and Jin would both kill me."

"Do you have the plague or something?" Luna asked with a scrunch of her nose.

"I would hope not. The doctor thinks it's the flu or something. Speaking of which, you guys probably shouldn't be here since I might be contagious."

Kathy rolled her eyes. "I'm sure we'll be fine. We'll try not to make out with you."

"Speaking of making out, guess who I saw getting lip cozy with Calvin last night outside the bar?" Luna giggled girlishly.

Molly glanced over at Kathy, prepared to see a look of disappointment on her friend's face. Rather, the blonde was grinning from ear to ear.

"Was… it you?" Molly asked with wide eyes.

"Guilty," Kathy said through her smile.

Molly had to stifle laughter. How Kathy had managed to go from a seemingly hopeless crush to somehow getting the guy in just the few days she was out was beyond her. "How'd that happen?"

"Oh, you know," the blonde waved her hand dismissively, "I laid on my womanly charm."

"She pulled her shirt down a little, gave him a few drinks at the bar, and asked him a hundred questions about his work and the places he's been. He ate it right up. I was there," Luna clarified as she stared down at the chipping pink nail polish on her fingernails.

The brunette laughed again and shook her head. "So does this mean you guys are together now?"

Kathy went a little somber. "I'm not sure yet. But he did ask me to the Firefly Festival in a week."

Molly blinked. "Huh?" She had known already that Castanet Island engaged in what they liked to call 'festivals', which appeared to be more or less local holidays with different themes and events. Despite the weeks she had already been living on the island, Molly had unfortunately yet to experience an actual island festival.

"It's a local festival that we have," Luna explained. "It's at night and it's considered a 'romantic festival' so everyone has dates. Couples float little flower-shaped boats with tiny candles in them off the shore. Some of the festivals we can't do anymore since all this weird stuff is going on with the island, but Mayor Hamilton insists we'll still have the Firefly Festival this year."

"Oh…" Molly murmured.

"Who are you going to go with?" Kathy asked the farmer eagerly, as if this was something Molly had put any prior thought into; she hadn't even _known_ about the festival until literally seconds before.

Molly frowned. "Oh, I dunno. I probably won't even go…" Did SIHA require her to attend things like that? She couldn't recall Phil mention anything on the matter before she had left the city.

"What the hell do you mean? You _have_ to! Come on; just tell me who you like!" Kathy insisted rather forcefully.

"I don't know," Molly said with a sigh. She felt like she was seven all over again; it had been years since someone had asked her who she was dating or interested in by using the term 'like' in such a childish way. "I'm really not even supposed to date."

"Why not? I thought you dumped that loser ex of yours in the city…" Kathy said, a bit taken aback.

"I did," Molly said with a shrug. "But I'm stationed her on a job. That would be unprofessional."

"How would they even know?" Luna chimed in, also seeming rather peeved by Molly's hasty romantic refusal.

"I… I don't know…" Molly admitted quietly.

"See?" Kathy said. "What's the problem? What they don't know won't hurt them! Besides, it's not like you're _not_ doing your job still."

Molly let out a heavy sigh and stared in her lap thoughtfully. She may have been technically on the job, highly intelligent for her age, and professionally motivated, but underneath it all, she was still just a twenty-two year old girl just like all other girls her age – or close, at least. Still, at the end of the day her job was more important to her than carrying out some sordid affair that she'd have to walk away from in just a few months no matter how wonderful or terrible it turned out to be.

"So, tell us who you like!" Kathy insisted again childishly.

The brunette giggled and shook her head. "I'm telling you, I don't _know_ who I like! Besides, I don't know of anyone who'd want to go to the Firefly Festival with me…"

"What about Owen," the blonde offered.

Molly contemplated this for a moment. "I've only talked to him like, twice."

"But do you think he's attractive?" Luna asked.

"I mean, yeah, but… he's not really my type, I guess." Molly shrugged.

"What about Luke?" Kathy suggested.

Molly looked over to Luna, recalling the mention Kathy had made to Luna's crush on the carpenter's apprentice a few weeks back.

Luna rolled her eyes. "I got over that crush already." She waved her hand dismissively before adding in an almost-whisper, "I have a new one anyway."

"Who?" Kathy and Molly both asked in unison.

Luna starred bashfully into her lap, her small bubble-gum pink nails picking at the hem of her dress. Her round cheeks had turned a shade that rivaled her nail polish.

"Are we going to have to guess?" Kathy said with a smirk.

"It's Gill," Molly announced suddenly as she studied the face of the girl beside her. How it had come to her, she couldn't decipher, but the name left her lips before she even had the chance to stop it.

Luna's gaze shot up, her prominent blue eyes growing even wider than their natural state. "How did you know?"

"Oh my god, isn't he dating your _sister_?" Kathy hissed incredulously.

"He is," Luna pouted, crossing her arms against her relatively flat chest. Her immaculate curls bounced hypnotically with each sudden movement. "And it's not fair. They're always kissing and making gushy faces at each other. And _I_ live with her so _I_ have to see it!"

"Isn't he like, twenty-five?" Molly asked with a slight frown.

"Twenty-four," Luna corrected.

"And… how old are you?" Molly said.

Luna hesitated before sighing heavily, lifting a hand to curl a lock of pink hair around her index finger. "Sixteen," she mumbled before glancing back up at Molly and adding sternly, "But I'm almost seventeen!"

Kathy giggled. "It must be hard getting a date around here, huh Luna? Most of the guys are either taken or at least seven years older than you."

"It's awful!" Luna groaned dramatically.

Luna was in fact at a painfully awkward age to be living on such an island; the young men seemed abundant and generally quite attractive with several outliers on either end of the spectrum. But the eligible bachelors ranged in age from twenty-one (Luke being the youngest) to twenty-nine (Calvin being the oldest) with most of them averaging twenty-three. Chloe, Taylor, and Paolo - the children of the island - were all much too young for Luna to associate with. She may have looked even younger than she was but her haughty attitude, natural intelligence, and inherent interest in and prior experience with men awkwardly beyond her in years seemed to help her get along with the local young women who generally treated her as an equal rather than a child.

"What about Bo?" Molly offered.

"I don't know… he's nice but… Gill's so _dreamy_."

Molly and Kathy laughed.

"Hardly," Kathy wheezed through her giggles.

Luna huffed in annoyance. "Well, Calvin's gross 'cause he's got all that chest hair!"

This statement only caused Molly and Kathy to laugh harder.

"You'll understand it when you're older," Kathy assured. "Hey Molly," she said suddenly, turning back to the brunette.

"Hm?"

"What about Chase?"

Molly blinked, forehead creasing in thought at the name. She considered his handsome, boyish face, his confident smirk, and the charming way his brows furrowed together in concentration whenever he cooked."I've never thought about it, I guess…" she lied.

"Do you think he's cute?" Luna asked.

"Well, yeah. I mean, he's really hot…" Molly admitted shyly, diverting her attention into her lap at the stitches in her blanket that had suddenly become irresistibly interesting in her embarrassment.

Kathy rolled her eyes. "Too scrawny and a bit too pretty-boy faced for me, but whatever you're into."

Molly giggled and scoffed, shaking her head defensively. "He's got _some_ muscle on him, Kathy, he's just not bulky like Calvin or Owen. And that stubble and his height give him just the right amount of manliness."

"Oh my god, you _have_ thought about this before," Kathy accused with a laugh.

"I have not!" Molly screeched, her lightly freckled cheeks heating with blush.

"Why don't you go to the festival with him?" Luna suggested.

"I don't think it'd be a good idea," Molly said. "We're friends and I don't want to fuck that up. What if something goes wrong? I'd have to spend the rest of my stay here avoiding him."

"You're so pessimistic," Kathy said.

"I'm not. I'm just…" Molly trailed off.

"_Pessimistic_," Kathy insisted again.

Molly sighed. "It doesn't matter, anyway. I'd never be able to ask him! That'd be so embarrassing. What if he said 'no'?"

Luna rolled her eyes. "He wouldn't."

"How do you know?" Molly frowned at the pink-haired girl.

"He makes you soup every morning and waters your field. Chase is a jerk to most people. Why would he do that if he didn't like you?" Luna said.

"Chase is a jerk to me too a lot of the time!" Molly insisted.

"Ugh," Luna groaned and rolled her eyes again. "I may only be sixteen, but even _I _know more about boys than you do."

"In _some_ departments, at least," Kathy added with a sly smirk, to which Molly shot her a glare.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," Molly announced. "I'm sick and sleepy and this is stressing me out."

"Fine. Wanna watch some TV?" Kathy offered as she reached for the remote on the armrest nearest to her.

"Yeah," Molly said, perking right back up.

The blonde switched on the television set and turned it to the island's local news station, which was filled with bleak and depressing recounts of the island's current state. There was a segment, much to Luna's delight, hosted by Gill and shot in what appeared to be one of the office rooms in the Town Hall. Molly sat in silence and thought about that sexy, confident way Chase walked and the mysterious tattoo under Wizard's right eye.

* * *

><p><em>The world was dark and empty. A golden wrist cuff and a massive braid of fiery red hair was illuminated in a sudden flash of light. As quickly as it had appeared, it was gone.<em>

_A voice called, the words echoing off invisible walls. The language was incomprehensible yet somehow familiar. "Vak kyan jag görja?"_

_"Do not come here anymore," another voice responded, so loud that the sheer force of the words caused the darkness to tremble._

__"Talka om för mige," t_he first voice came again – quiet, desperate, pleading and indecipherable in meaning.  
><em>

_"You are a fool, little mage, and you will lead her to her death."_

_And the world collapsed._

* * *

><p>It was a sharp but distant knock on her front door that ripped Molly from her nightmare. She drew in a sudden, shuddering breath as she rolled over to glance around her small bedroom. It was the middle of the night still, and the room was just barely illuminated. She pinched her eyes shut tightly as she tried to convince herself that there was no noise that had woken her and rather it had just been another part of her all-too-vivid nightmare.<p>

But another knock came and her heart seemed to miss a beat in her chest. If someone had knocked on her door in the middle of the night in the city, she would have instantly assumed it was a murderer outside, trying to lure her out to her own demise. On Castanet Island, her first instinct was quite the same, though she felt brave enough to at least go check and see that it wasn't Chase or a drunken Luke or one of the island's local children playing a prank. Gulping, she eased herself out of her bed, tip-toeing cautiously over to bedroom door and slipping out into the modest living room. As quietly as she could, she crept over to the window nearest the front door. It was there she paused to push one of the curtains aside just enough to catch a sliver of the man standing on her doorstep: Wizard.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed as she swung the front door open. Reaching out aggressively, she grabbed a fistful of his purple coat and pulled him inside before hastily shutting and locking the front door again. "You scared me half to death!"

He stared impassively down at her. "I'm sorry."

Stepping back, she looked over him curiously and crossed her arms against her chest. Her anger couldn't hold long though, especially considering she knew she had woken him in his own home several times before - even if it was peculiar how he seemed to often sleep during the day. "It's alright…" she said finally, sighing. "I just don't feel very good." She turned and started back off in the direction of her bedroom.

Wizard followed behind slowly. "You're sick," he observed.

"Yeah, Doctor Jin thinks I have the flu or something," Molly said dismissively as she retreated back into the warmth of her thick downy comforters.

Wizard stood beside the bed, glancing around through the darkness for a place to sit, though her bedroom didn't have any chairs or even a place for a desk. The modest room was taken up by her large bed, a tiny nightstand, and a mahogany dresser with a vanity mirror above it. There were little hints of her scattered around the room: the collection of framed photographs on the nightstand, a larger picture of her and her family when she was a child, smiling awkwardly into the camera, and several personal trinkets placed atop the dresser, including an old music box, a matryoshka, and three beautiful glass bottles of different perfumes.

"You can sit on the bed," Molly offered, nodding to the place next to her.

The young man stared down at her for a long moment, seeming to contemplate her suggestion. Finally he climbed onto the bed, seating himself beside her and leaning back against the headboard.

"Not to be rude or anything but… what are you doing here?" Molly asked softly, adjusting the pillow under her head. She felt like she was burning up with fever.

"I heard you were ill," Wizard replied.

"Who told you that?"

"I overheard Chase… speaking with Doctor Jin… yesterday."

Molly frowned. "Oh…"

They went silent.

"You've been ignoring me," Molly announced suddenly.

"I haven't…" Wizard countered in his usual monotonous tone.

"Yes, you have." Molly was glaring up at him.

Wizard simply stared at the wall opposite him, her frustrated gaze going unnoticed. "I've… been away."

"Oh…" she whispered, her expression softening. Molly didn't entirely believe that, but she didn't want to prod any further on the matter. Rather, she changed the subject. "I've been having a lot more nightmares than usual since we went to seen Witch Princess."

"Oh?"

"Mhm."

"What are they about?" Wizard asked with a touch of curiosity, turning his head to look down at the feverish girl beside him.

"I don't really know," she admitted with a frown. "I usually forget most of it after I wake up but… I think there's someone in all of my nightmares. I just don't know who it is."

"Someone… you've never met?" He asked.

"Definitely someone I've never met. At least, not someone I consciously remember. But I don't even really know what he looks like. It's always so dark in my dreams. But I think he has really long red and orange hair. I never get a good look at his face – or I can't remember seeing his face, I guess."

Wizard didn't respond. Molly glanced up at him; he was staring straight ahead with a stern expression barely visible through the darkness.

"Wizard…" Molly whispered hesitantly.

"Hm?" He didn't turn to look at her.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No."

"Ok…" Molly nestled her cheek back against her pillow and sighed. "Would you mind staying with me? At least until I fall back asleep?" she asked with a touch of embarrassment. She was a grown woman, after all.

"You want me to?" Wizard said gently, turning to look down at her in surprise.

"Yeah, if you don't mind…"

"Not at all," he replied, moving a hand to brush a lock of her bangs from in front of her eyes.

She blushed, though he couldn't see through the darkness of the room. Closing her eyes, she sighed and attempted to find sleep once more.

"Wizard?" she asked abrupt and a bit groggily.

"Yes, Molly?"

"Are you going to the Firefly Festival next week?"

"No," he said. "I do not go… to festivals."

"Oh…" Molly murmured a bit sadly.

It was only moments later that she fell back asleep.

She had no other nightmares that night and when she awoke the next morning, Wizard was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> This chapter is mainly just a set-up for the next few. I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far! Let me know what you think. :) Oh, and I clearly aged Luna down in this story. I always picture her as around 16, especially in ToT. There's some serious Humbert Humbert shit going on in Harvest Moon.

Thank you so much to FlamingIceWolfGirl and Dahlia Derbyshire for the reviews since my last chapter!


	11. Chapter 10: A Proposition

**Chapter Ten**  
><strong>A Proposition<strong>

Wizard was an enigma. Molly knew this from the first night she stood outside his doorstep, listening to the nervous bray of her heart and trying to convince herself that it wouldn't be a monster that answered the door. He wasn't a monster, of course, but he was something beyond a human. Molly wanted to believe everything he had ever said to her and, in truth, she did hang off every apathetic word he spoke, but it wasn't enough to resolve the cognitive dissonance that knotted and swelled inside her every time she talked to him, saw him,_ thought_ about him. Part of her wanted to turn away from the entire idea of wizards and goddesses and divine intervention; she wanted to write him off as just another crazy young man. But she couldn't. Perhaps it was because she _was_ tired of being so damn pessimistic, but whenever she thought about swearing him off for good, he pulled her back into his orbit without ever having to do or say anything at all.

_Anything_ would have been appreciated by Molly. When the young woman returned to his house the day following his brief nocturnal visit, he didn't answer her knocks on the door – nor did he the following day nor the day after when she snuck out of the old farmhouse and into Harmonica Town. Instead of being worried over his sudden disappearances or his blatantly ignoring her, Molly was finding herself feeling more and more frustrated and in some ways, betrayed. She wanted answers and explanations; she wanted to be able to trust that he would be there whenever she needed his help, just like he had promised her that night when they first met. But he wasn't, and for some reason, it hurt.

Molly had spent plenty of her time brewing in illness and regretting not asking Wizard an avalanche of questions about the Harvest King that night he stayed with her in her bedroom. But if Wizard wasn't going to tell Molly about the Harvest King, then Molly sure as hell was going to find someone who would. Perry seemed like the next logical person who would know of such a divine being, so a trip to the Celesta Church was in order, despite her instructions to stay in bed and rest, courtesy of one overbearing Doctor Jin.

Molly, knowing the poor pastor was excruciatingly lonesome up on the hill and in the shadow of the mines, was promptly coaxed into a game of chess ('_Just a quick one – it won't take any time at all!' he had said for the third time as began to arrange the pieces_). The old board was thick and heavy and set up in the back room where Perry resided. It only seemed proper for Perry, being a man of religious pursuits, to assume the role of the white ceramic pieces (yellowed charmingly with age) in lieu of the darker, more sinister set that Molly commanded. Perry was young and dough-faced but warm and gentle and boyishly handsome in his own right. Molly silently wondered if he ever regretted his devotion – time, energy, love – to the Goddess, especially in the island's state of suffering.

What had been so eagerly promised to be a quick match turned out to be an agonizingly long diversion. Perry sat, chin cupped in one palm as he mused over the board for ten minutes at a time. When his hand finally lifted, his fingers would idle over a piece in a long, teasing moment before finally making an ill-fated move. Of course, it had not escaped the girl that she could use those ripe silences to her advantage in order to interrogate the pastor for information regarding the mysterious 'Harvest King'. But it seemed distastefully rude and she didn't want to hurt the young man's feelings by exposing the fact that she hadn't simply stopped by for a quick 'hello' and a brief chat, but rather an ulterior, more selfish motive.

Thusly, it wasn't until her rook finally overtook the pastor's ambushed king that Molly did bring up the true nature of her visit:

"Father Perry?" she asked with as much nonchalance and half-interest she could muster – or suppress.

"Hm?" He had turned his attention to carefully placing each precious playing piece back into a small, velvet drawstring bag, having become a bit somber over the fact that the game had come to an end rather than the final score.

"Do you know anything about the Harvest King?" Her question lacked the pointed subtlety she had been trying to build the entire morning.

Perry's yellow gaze darted up as, all at once, she had his full attention. "What do you mean, 'Harvest King'?"

Molly's brows knitted together. "I mean the _Harvest King_. What do you know about him?"

Perry studied her face for a drawn-out moment before his gaze softened and he let out a light chuckle. "Molly, we don't have a 'Harvest King'," he said as he stood and walked over to a shelf above his desk to store away the playing pieces. "We only have our Goddess. She is the one who watches over our island. She has her sprites, but they are certainly no 'kings'." He had returned to her side, smiling warmly down at her.

"Oh… I see."

Molly left the church with even more questions than she had walked in with and feeling quite perplexed over the entire exchange. It was then she considered, though briefly, a returning visit – a part _duex_ in the saga – to the house of Witch Princess. Two complications kept her from such a venture: Molly knew that she couldn't navigate the Fugue Forest on her own, and she knew that Witch was likely to turn the young woman away – or perhaps do something _worse_ – if she were to make an appearance without the accompaniment of Wizard.

So rather, she returned home to her farm to think and brood and pout like the little helpless girl that Castanet Island was making her feel like.

* * *

><p>Close to one hundred mugs of peppermint tea deep into her sickness – box of which had been courtesy of Candace – Molly finally began to feel better. Her consciousness had flittered back down from its holiday in the clouds to rejoin her somewhere between mug eighty-three and ninety-two, and for the first time in what felt like years, she could finally think straight again.<p>

She resumed her farm work after convincing Chase that she was well enough to work again, which proved not to be as simple as she'd hoped. Her animals, who seemed to be getting along just fine aside from a touch of moodiness due to her absence, received extra portions of feed in celebration. The fields, however, were showing no signs of growth; Molly had hoped for and expected to see tiny green sprouts erupting from the soil by then. She considered placing a call to Phil to bring him the bad news, but she almost felt like that might betray the poor little seeds before they had the chance to prove themselves. Feeling bad for seeds – what was that island doing to her?

It began to rain as the blackness of night permeated Castanet and marked the end of her first official day back as a healthy, full-functioning human being. Molly retreated into her house to grab her long, royal blue coat with the bright gold buttons and pull it on over her black sweatshirt. She checked her reflection in the mirror –_ 'getting paler by the day, and is that a new freckle?'_ – before pulling the hood of her sweatshirt over her head of thick auburn hair and pushed her way back outside. Maybe it was because she was growing so used to the island, but the raw weather didn't seem to bother her much anymore.

Strolling into Harmonica Town, Molly made her way to the only place that was open at night: the Brass Bar. The gentle, rhythmic orchestra of heavy rainfall was drowned out the moment she opened the front door, replaced by a loud, upbeat music of a distinctly foreign variety. Peeling her soaked hood from her dampened hair, her brown eyes roamed the barroom. It seemed Molly wasn't the only person taking refuge from the downpour outside: Calvin, Dale, Ramsey, Owen, Cain, Jake, Simon, Pascal, Ozzie, Luke, and Craig were all seated at various tables. Hayden was behind the front counter mixing drinks, Selena was on stage performing an elaborate show in a minimal amount of clothing, and Kathy was reduced to a freckled blur in Molly's peripheral vision as the blonde swept through the room, snatching up empty glasses. It was by far the most people Molly had ever seen in the Brass Bar at one time. The entire room was very dim and the warm, stagnant air reeked of incense and pot roast.

It took Molly a few shameful moments to rip her attention away from the mesmerizing jiggle of Selena's chest. Her light brown eyes roamed the room for the familiar sight of the chef, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey!"

Molly looked over to see that Kathy had materialized beside her in her distraction. "Hey," the brunette called back over the music. "What's going on in here?"

Kathy giggled and reached into one of the pockets of her jeans, pulling out a crumpled piece of violently yellow paper and handing it over. _SATURDAY NIGHT: ALL DRINKS HALF OFF_. There was a crude drawing of a curvaceous woman with a cocktail that Molly could only presume was drawn by Hayden, the bar owner.

By the time Molly glanced back up from the flyer, Kathy had already returned to the bar to fill her tray up with freshly concocted drinks. She sighed and folded it carefully before slipping it into her own back pocket. Scurrying quickly over to the front counter just as Kathy went to make another round through the room, Molly leaned forward to speak to Hayden over the loud music.

"Is Chase in the kitchen?" she asked.

Hayden nodded, stroking at the chaotic forest of hair that made up his dense, brown beard. Molly wondered what he would look like if all that facial hair had migrated to the top of his balding head; it took everything in her not to giggle.

"Do you mind if I go back there?" she called.

"Go right ahead."

Molly smiled her sugar-sweet smile and nodded in thanks before walking around the front counter and pushing her way through the swinging door that led to the tiny back kitchen. Chase was there in the narrow kitchenette, leaning over a small, stainless steel sink and scrubbing at a massive pot that was filled with soapy water; his face was stern with concentration. A red apron was tied over his black t-shirt, and the back of his dark, worn-in, fitted jeans sagged just below the hem of his boxer briefs and bunched against the tops of shoes, as if the fabric was easily six inches too long. There was something so captivating and oddly alluring about Chase's casualness in that moment as he sweated over the old cast iron pot, in contrast to his more typical button-ups and fairly clean-cut appearance when he was at work.

"Whatchya cookin''?" Molly smirked playfully, leaning against the wall by the door with her arms crossed against her chest. It was much quieter in the kitchen, which Molly could appreciate.

Chase glanced over his shoulder, alarmed. "Don't you ever knock?" he asked bitingly.

"It's a swinging door. Who knocks on a swinging door?" Molly said, rolling her eyes. She left the wall, walking over to stand beside him and staring into the large cooking pot he was cleaning.

"The kitchen's closed so I'm almost done with my shift," he said, turning his attention back to his scrubbing. "Shouldn't you be in bed resting?"

"I've already told you, I feel _fine_. Plus my hours are messed up since I slept so much when I was sick. I came by to say hi to you and Kathy, but I didn't realize there was a whole big _event_ going on tonight."

"You were out to see that fortune teller again, weren't you?" he accused with feigned disinterest, poorly masking his annoyance.

"I wasn't," she spat indignantly, and for once she wasn't lying. "In fact, you'll be glad to know he's been pretty much ignoring me for a while now. I don't even know what I did wrong, but he doesn't come to the door when I knock anymore."

"Maybe he's out," he reasoned.

"I don't believe that for a second."

Chase let out a heavy sigh and let the topic fall to silence. "Are you going to stay?" he asked as he poured out the dirty liquid from the pot and turned on the tap to refill it with fresh, steaming water. His hands looked raw and pink from the effort.

Molly frowned, pondering the question for a moment. "No… I don't think so. This kind of atmosphere isn't really my thing, I guess."

"Are you hungry? I have some leftovers at home in my fridge from last night," he offered.

A smile spread across her coral pink lips as she watched his face staring down in the massive pot as he scrubbed.

When she failed to answer, he glanced over at her. "Well?"

"Sure," she laughed, taking a step back to give the chef a little more space. "That'd be great."

"Awesome. I just need to finish up cleaning this pot and cash-out my tips for the night and I'll be ready. Mind waiting for me in the bar?"

The loud music had been replaced by a buzzing chatter in the barroom. As Molly stepped out, she noticed Selena had not only disappeared from the stage, but from the room entirely – Molly could only imagine the movie-star exit she must have made. All around the room, the men were dispersed and grouped predictably: the older generation was scattered in pairs of twos, chortling deep belly laughs over their heady beers, while the younger men sat together at one large table and prattled senselessly over their more obscure cocktails. Kathy was perched in the lap of the archeologist, who had retired his brown hat to the table to reveal his head of perfectly disheveled golden locks. Calvin appeared deep in an elaborate tale as Kathy peered at his whiskered face with wide, fascinated eyes. Molly couldn't help but smile at the scene.

The brunette then turned to watch as Chase entered the room from the kitchen, now dressed in an expensive-looking gray jacket and talking to Hayden behind the bar.

"Hey, Molly."

Molly turned her head to see Owen standing in front of her with a bashful smile that was charmingly out-of-place on his chiseled, handsome features. A man of massive, perfectly sculpted stature, he towered effortlessly over the brunette. He had a head of dark, glossy copper red hair and matching circumflex eyebrows.

"Owen. Hi. How are you?" she asked with a quizzical smile. Molly's previous interactions with Owen had been sparse at best. She had spoken to him at one of the weekly town meetings and had interviewed him briefly after first arriving on the island in relation to the state of the mines he spent so much time toiling away in. His file painted him as handsome face with an unreal physique and a head stuffed to the brim with fancy words he didn't know the meaning of but liked to use anyway.

"I'm pretty good. I heard from Kathy you were sick. Are you feeling better?"

"Much." That sweet, polite, and very-much forced smile of hers was being to ache as she wondered what the true meaning behind his trivialities was.

"Hey, so I was kind of wondering," he had lifted a mitt-sized hand to rub the back of his thick neck, "if you're going to the Firefly Festival on Saturday? And, you know… if you're going with anyone already."

Molly stared up at the young man with wide, alarmed eyes._ 'Ok, who set him up to this? Should I just go drag Kathy into one of the back rooms and strangle her now, or should I wait till later?'_ The young woman glanced over to catch the eye of Kathy across the room who was still perched on Calvin's lap and now observing the exchange with pointed curiosity, though she surely couldn't hear their conversation. Molly glared.

"Wow, Owen," she said, turning to look back up at him and grinning the most vehement grin she could possibly muster. "That would be a lot of fun bu–"

"Sorry, pal," a familiar voice rang and a weight came to rest around Molly's shoulders, "I already asked her the other day."

Molly looked over to see Chase beside her, one arm draped nonchalantly around her as he smiled at Owen. It took Molly's typically agile brain a moment to register why he had said such a thing. Then it clicked.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry Owen. I'd have loved to, but I already promised Chase I'd go with him," she lied with an apologetic smile.

Owen looked clearly disappointed and Molly felt truly awful.

"We should get a drink sometime though, yeah?" Molly offered.

This seemed to perk the muscular man up considerably. "Yeah, that'd be fun. Well, I'll see you guys around."

They parted with courteous waves and Chase led Molly, arm still around her, out the front door of the Brass Bar and into the weeping, velvet spring night. Once outside, he pulled away and unfurled a large, black umbrella he had been carrying in his other hand.

"You didn't have to do that," Molly insisted with a frown as the two started walking under the cover of the waterproof fabric which Chase carried.

"Do what?"

"Lie to Owen."

Chase chuckled as he reached into his coat pocket with his free hand and withdrew a pack of cigarettes. "Why not? Did you want to go with him or something?" His nimble fingers worked to withdraw a cigarette from the stiff pack with the only free hand he had.

"Well, no…"

He lit the cigarette and took a long drag. "So then what's the problem?"

Molly contemplated this for a moment before chuckling. "None, I suppose. I just feel bad."

"You shouldn't."

The wisps of cigarette smoke billowed from his lips and tickled Molly's nose. She didn't find the smell particularly unejoyable though; it reminded her of her grandfather when she was little.

"You know you have to go with me now," Chase said.

Molly looked over at him, perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you told Owen we would be there together. If we don't go, he'll know we were lying just to spare his feelings."

Molly glared at the charming, impish smile plastered across his face. "You tricked me! You're a deceitful little devil, you know that, Chase?"

"I know," he chuckled before inhaling deeply on his cigarette.

They reached the modest house fit for one in Flute Fields. Chase set to reheating a lasagna he had pulled from the fridge as Molly roamed the front room with marked curiosity. She had been too distracted the first time she had visited his home and far too hungover the second to truly digest the interior of his home. Various potted plants of the living and slightly mortis variety were scattered around the room: on the refrigerator, beside the old television set, standing guard in one otherwise empty corner, lining the topmost shelf of a large wooden cabinet that stored various bottle of alcohol, ranging from the cheapest get-drunk-fast bottles to the fanciest liqueurs. There was a telephone on a small table, the dining table, a rug of uneventful colors and patterns, an old sofa, the television set, a kitchenette overflowing with clean pots and pans and utensils that presumably would not fit in the limited cabinet space above; powered green curtains, a calendar and a few nondescript paintings hanging from the off-white walls. It was a threesome of melancholy portraits arranged on the wall near the bedroom door that Molly stopped to ponder.

"Tchaikovsky," she said, pointing to a familiar black-and-white face.

"Mhm." Chase had appeared beside her, two glasses of wine in hand.

She took hers with a curt 'thank you' before turning back to the portraits. "Who are these?" She gestured to the other two.

"Rachmaninoff, Stravinsky." He pointed to each, respectively.

"You play?" Molly looked up at him with wide, curious brown eyes.

"I do," he chuckled. "Piano since I was a child, and the flute and guitar."

"I had no idea…" she murmured softly as she stared down into the glass of deep burgundy liquid in her hand.

"I couldn't bring my piano when I moved here and my guitar broke years ago. All I really play now is my flute."

Molly scanned the walls of the modest room. "No pictures of your family?"

Chase fell silent and the muscles in his jaw flexed with agitation. "No. I don't get along with my family."

The young woman frowned, lowering her gaze. She was surprised and felt quite guilty over how little she actually seemed to know about Chase's personal life. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't be. My mother was insufferable and my father was a drunk," he stated, alarming cavalier.

"_Was_?" she echoed cautiously.

"I haven't spoken to my parents since I first moved here five years ago when I was nineteen," he explained. "I grew up in a town a lot bigger than this place, but I wanted to get away and start working as a chef and honing my cooking skills. I just ended up here, I guess…" He trailed off thoughtfully, staring up into the pensive face of Rachmaninoff mounted on the wall.

"Do have siblings?" the insatiably curious girl asked.

Chase grew somber at the question. "I do. I have a little sister who I loved very dearly. She was seven when I left."

Molly sighed, searching her mind for a subject to lighten the mood. "You know," she started eagerly, "Perry has a piano at the church. I'm sure he'd let you play it."

For some reason, this seemed to greatly agitate the young chef. "I don't go to church unless it's for weddings, funerals, or those damn town meetings Mayor Hamilton makes us sit through every week."

The girl's brows pulled together in a mix of upset and annoyance. "I'm not religious either, Chase, but I don't understand why you're so dismissive of everything not proven by stone-cold fact. No, not even dismissive, you're _aggravated_ by it. And not just the Harvest Goddess – Wizard too."

"Because I think it's foolish to run around chasing fairy tales," Chase said bitterly before adding, "And I don't trust Wizard either."

"He's nice to me," she insisted, becoming quite defensive over the entire subject.

Chase sighed softly, looking down into his own glass of wine. The frustration on his face softened to a thoughtful melancholy. "I just don't want you getting hurt," he said gently.

Molly stared up at him in a state of surprise and confusion. She searched his face for some kind of explanation, but came up short. She never asked.

"I'll be careful around him. You don't have any reason to be worried. I can take care of myself, I promise," she said softly, staring at the collar of his jacket as she couldn't seem to muster the courage to utter such words to his face.

The subject was dropped and pushed to the back of their minds but never really forgotten. The lasagna and a few glasses of wine seemed to brighten the mood right back up as they sat at the table and discussed lighter subjects such as Mayor Hamilton's gravity defying hair and Selena's most recent endeavor to pry Gill from his mild-mannered lover, which was proving to be a fruitless effort.

After their meal, Chase escorted Molly all the way back to her farm, in spite of the rain and darkness. It was there on her doorstep, just as Chase had turned to leave for home again, that Molly called out to him:

"What should I wear to the festival?"

Chase turned around, ignited cigarette twitching between his lips as they curled into a smile. "Something pretty."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I know there's been a lot of focus on Wizard and Chase and the romantic storyline in these past few chapters, but I'm trying to build characterization and set up the next couple chapters so hopefully they haven't been too uninteresting to read! I haven't forgotten about the plot, I promise, haha c:

Thank you, thank you, thank you FlamingIceWolfGirl, Dahlia Derbyshire, and MayumiL for the reviews on my last chapter! I really, really appreciate the support!

And Dahlia - Did you really think parts of the last chapter were nonsensical? :c I know it was a lot of dialogue, but I tried to keep it all clear and either state or imply who was speaking throughout it. I'm planning on going back to do some edits on the last two chapters over the next week - do you mind letting me know which specific parts didn't make sense to you? I'd like to be able to make it as clear as possible!


	12. Chapter 11: The Meeting

**Chapter Eleven  
>The Meeting<br>**

_Tap… tap… tap…_ The rubber end of a pencil was thumping dully against a drift of papers on a clipboard. Gill Hamilton, supercilious mayor-to-be and joy-killer extraordinaire, was staring critically down at the section of field that had been prepped and planted. Molly stood beside her unexpected morning visitor, hands shoved deep into her coat pockets and balled into tiny, agitated fists. She had never been much of a morning person, despite her love and dedication for her work. To be kept all night from a peaceful sleep by a slew of unsettling dreams and then abruptly roused from her warm, comfortable bed by a young man she didn't particularly care for was an obvious indication that that day was not going to be a good one.

Gill had made his appearance completely unannounced in the wee hours of the morning to 'investigate' Molly's progress on the farm and interrogate her on how close she was to solving the island's mysterious ailment. _Solving – _such a bold, expectant word – as if she alone would be able to condescend physics and nature. The cloud that loomed menacingly over the island and casted a constant shade, the acidity of the soil, and the eerie stillness of the water were not issues she could adjust and revise at will; the laws of physics were linear and constant and she was at their mercy.

"And you say something should have happened by now?" Gill drawled.

"Well, yes," Molly replied miserably.

"Hmm…" Gill began scribbling a few notes in immaculate cursive.

"I mean, when growing plants normally, yes, they _should_ have sprouted by now," Molly explained with a notable defensiveness in her tone. "But the circumstances aren't exactly _normal_. Maybe they're just taking longer to sprout. I don't really know. I didn't make the supplements."

"Very well," Gill chimed dismissively as his pencil continued its dance across the page.

Molly frowned, eyes slitting to a glare. She couldn't see the words he was writing, but she got the impression they weren't very nice.

"And the animals?" Gill asked as he resumed his annoyed tapping of the eraser.

Without a word, the brunette led her unwelcomed guest to the barn, her boots tromping in the moist grass. Inside, the animals were eating lazily from their troughs, the goat pausing from its meal to bleat shrilly as they entered.

"They're doing well," Molly said flatly.

"Mhm."

Gill resumed writing on the paper and Molly let out a loud, exaggerated sigh.

"Is that all?" she asked, the words coming out much more rudely than she had actually intended.

Gill paused to stare down at her from over the clipboard, a permanent scowl etched into his stony face.

"Yes," he said finally. "You will be at the town meeting this afternoon, I expect? They aren't optional."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there," she grumbled before seeing the young man out of the barn.

* * *

><p>The residents of Castanet Island were packed into the long-but-narrow Celesta Church. Bodies consumed every inch of the pews and the less interested or particularly bitter residents stood, idled in the back of the room near the large wooden doors. The air felt heavy with disinterest and dysphoria and every tired face in the room was distorted into either a woeful frown or a look of indignation.<p>

That was, of course, except for the Mayor. The portly, lateral man peered over the podium good-naturedly, smiling at his vaguely-loyal-but-mostly-miserable population. He was discussing matters ranging from the recent but minor injury of Chloe – the granddaughter of blacksmith Ramsey in the Garmon district – that she had incurred while exploring the labyrinth of the lower mines, to the minute changes in the lunch menu at Ocarina Inn, due primarily to the recent shortage of beef product in the island's rations; subjects that seemed trivialities. The room was silent save for the Mayor's chirpy voice and the occasional muffled cough.

Molly sat between Chase and Kathy in a pew, second row and to the left. From time to time her gaze would roam around the room, creeping slowly back towards the door until her torso was twisted into a nearly half rotation. She never saw the man she was looking for, but it didn't stop her curious eyes from wandering. Chase seemed to notice the girl's restlessness and he nudged her gently on the thigh on multiple occasions when her head was turned to scan the crowd of people behind them. Molly would snap back to attention, looking over at the smirking, amused profile of his face and trying not to smile herself. She would then settle back against the pew and feign interest in the Mayor's announcements until curiosity overtook her once more and her focus began to wane. Molly wasn't finding it easy to stay attentive as the topics all seemed highly inappropriate to warrant 'mandatory' town meetings about, and not to mention were violently uninteresting.

As the meeting was beginning to close in on a foreseeable end, Mayor Hamilton bid the residents a pleasant week ('Until next time!') and turned the reigns over to his saucy-looking son. Gill, having pushed aside the wooden crate his father was using for leverage, clasped his hands together on the podium in a let's-get-down-to-business kind of way. The entire mood of the room shifted and tensed considerably.

He cleared his throat. "As we all know, the island has seen no improvements as of late. The sky shows no signs of clearing and we have had no recorded sightings of any – even momentary – lapses of direct sunlight in weeks. The water remains stagnant and difficult for boats to come in and out of harbor. Our soil is still unable to provide a stable environment for any new crops to grow. Food is getting scarcer by the day and we are being stretched thinner and thinner as time goes on."

"So what are we going to do about it?" an unidentified man's voice called from the back of the room, clearly agitated.

Gill frowned and cleared his throat again, adjusting the thin violet tie around his neck. "Yes, well… as our resources begin to evaporate right before our eyes, we're faced with a difficult decision." He paused, eying his father who stood staring at his feet with an uncharacteristic somberness. "If things do not begin to resolve in the near future, I'm afraid we have no choice but to leave Castanet Island and migrate to somewhere with more suitable living conditions."

There was an orchestra of sharp gasps and incredulous whispers, followed by an almost immediate eruption of voices – some angry, some desperate and pleading.

"That's it? _That's_ your solution?" Jake yelled.

"We can't leave Castanet! My farm's been in my family for years!" Ruth wailed over the chatter from a few pillars back.

"I built my shop from the ground up! This island is all my granddaughter knows!" Ramsey shouted.

"How do you expect me to just buy a farm somewhere else?" Cain was bellowing. "We can't afford that!"

"_Silence_!" Gill snapped with surprising fury.

The room settled back into strained quiet, broken only by the soft, muffled cries of Mira into a silk kerchief. Molly sat on the edge of the pew, her eyes wide and her mouth gaping open in shock. The idea that the entire island would have to evacuate and find a new place to settle was more than a little hard to take – and Molly hadn't even been there for long. She couldn't imagine the devastation that was swelling in the people who had grown up there, many of whose families had been on Castanet for generations. Why hadn't Mayor Hamilton or even Gill mentioned the idea of moving off the island to her before?

The blonde beside Molly had buried her hands in her palms; Chase was staring distantly at the stained glass window depicting the Harvest Goddess, a frown taut across his lips.

"Our options are limited," Gill resumed, his tone growing even more stern than usual. "If we stay, we could eventually starve. There is only so much aid that can be provided to us in our time of need. Since we don't know what's wrong with the island, we can't determine if this is temporary or if it will never recover."

"It's the Harvest Goddess! She must be hurt!" said Colleen hysterically, only to be shushed by her husband.

Gill released a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose in momentary frustration before regaining his composure. "That may or may not be the case. If the Harvest Goddess is real," Gill gave a sideways glance to Perry, who was shaking his head disapprovingly, "and what is happening here is because of her, then it is out of our hands completely."

"We can pray to her!" Mira offered, having finally pulled her face from her soiled kerchief.

"Most of us _have_ been praying," Craig snapped back.

Molly slunk miserably back against the pew, looking over to Chase. His violet-blue eyes caught her gaze before looking down to his shoes and sighing. What a mess.

"Our best chance," Gill said loudly, struggling to regain control of the room, "was in Molly. But it doesn't seem that her efforts are going to be sufficient in sustaining our island."

All at once, the blood had drained from Molly's face. Her heartbeat quickened in her chest. Why was the conversation being turned on her?

"Her crops have failed to grow," he continued, "and her livestock simply isn't enough to supplement the needs of Castanet."

Molly's cheeks felt hot as she glanced around to room at the eyes that had settled on her, then to Chase who was staring at her sympathetically. She vaguely felt his hand on her leg – an attempt at a comforting gesture – but her mind was swirling too erratically to fully comprehend it.

"That's not fair!" she blurted out angrily as she turned back to Gill at the front of the room. Standing, she stumbled to her feet and made her way to the podium. "I don't know for certain if the crops won't grow with the supplements that were provided to me! _I never said that_! And SIHA is going to be sending over more livestock for me as soon as they can get their hands on some!" Molly had reached Gill and was shouting right at him, her cheek burning red with a mixture of anger and shock.

"Very well," Gill drawled impassively. "Why don't _you _explain it to them?" He stepped away from the podium, retreating to join his nervous-looking father.

Molly gulped and turned slowly to meet the expectant faces that had all locked onto her. She felt – and surely _looked_ – like a deer in the highlights. It reminded her – to her dismay – of the first day she had arrived on the island, when we stood at the same podium and introduced herself to the same crowd of people. "Photosynthesis isn't exactly a process that's easy to replicate and replace with chemicals," she called, her voice jagged, defensive, and a few octaves too high. "It might take time for these plants to sprout."

"And what about the rest of the island? What about the cloud? What about the water?" Ramsey barked aggressively.

"Hey, leave the poor girl alone!" Hayden, Kathy's father, snapped back over his shoulder.

"I don't know what's wrong _yet_. I'm conducting my research, taking my samples, and writing my reports to the best of my ability!" Molly argued, struggling to keep any sense of composure. She wanted to cry, and the tears were already stinging threateningly at her eyes. "Just because things haven't resolved over night doesn't mean that I or my organization won't get to the bottom of this."

"But _when_? When will our island go back to the way it was?" Irene, Jin's grandmother, questioned sharply.

"Damnit, I don't _know_!"

The room erupted with voices once more, all struggling to be heard.

It was then, in that moment of complete anguish and frustration, that Molly's brown gaze caught on a peculiar sight in the back of the room. Amongst the sea of angry faces was a shock of silver-blonde hair: Wizard. Her heart seemed to skip a beat and the angry voices filling the church faded out of her senses. All she could hear was the sound of her ragged, uneven breathing. She moved suddenly from the podium, marching right down the center aisle of the church, blind to the people who shouted and called to her as she passed.

A handful of purple coat was grabbed and without a word, Molly began to pull Wizard toward the door. He didn't seem to need any explanation, as he followed her willingly, both of them leaving behind the room of people shrieking nonsensically at each other.

Outside, the last fragment of her composure cracked, and the tears began to pour out effortlessly.

Her nostrils filled with the scent of sweet, potent spices as her face buried into the warmth of Wizard's coat. His arm enveloped her body tightly as she trembled and shook with uncontainable sobs. Neither of them spoke for a long time. The distant, muffled sounds of shouting from inside the church were drowned by her cries.

"You _promised_ you would help me!" Molly choked out abruptly as she pulled her face from his chest, staring up into his bi-colored eyes with a look of sadness and betrayal. "The night I met you, you said you would _always_ help me."

"I did," Wizard replied softly, his arms still around her. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pulled into a frown; aside from the occasional fleeting smirk, it was the most expression Molly had ever seen on his face.

"You've been avoiding me," she accused for the second time.

Wizard sighed and nodded shamefully. This time, his answer was different. "…I have."

Molly's features distorted as she began to cry again, despite her best efforts not to. "_Why_?"

Wizard studied her face, her anguish mirrored on his own. "It's… dangerous."

"_What's_ dangerous? _Why won't you talk to me_? I don't understand!"

"I don't… want you to get hurt. I can't…" He failed to finish his sentiment as he released her, taking a step backward.

Molly brought her arms up, hugging herself miserably as she watched him. "Then why did you come to see me when I was sick?" It was more of an accusation than a question.

"When I heard you were ill… I couldn't keep away from you… I tried not to, but… I had to see you…" He looked away, staring off at the setting sun, far away in the distance and out of reach of the cloud that plagued them from above.

Molly, not seeming to know how to swallow these words, stared at the fabric of his black shirt. "I need your help, Wizard," Molly started slowly, calmly, "and I can't help them if you don't help me."

His face shifted back to its usual impassiveness as he turned to look at her.

"Please," she continued, "I'm_ begging _you – don't ignore me anymore. _Help me_."

Wizard studied her for a long moment. His expression seemed the slightest bit pained, but remained composed. "Alright," he said finally. "I… will help you. Come to my house… on Sunday afternoon."

Before Molly could even utter a word of gratitude, the door of the church swung open a few feet away and out poured the swarm of people. Some of the villagers were grumbling with leftover agitation and several looked to be in tears. Molly resorted to staring down at the ground, trying to avoid the critical gaze of the people who passed her. She waited with Wizard in silence, hoping that everyone would disperse promptly so that she could finish her conversation with the immortal beside her. The crowd finally did begin to thin as they made their way down the slope at the opposite end of the courtyard and back into Harmonica Town to return to their homes.

Gill was one of the last people to exit the church, followed by Chase and Kathy. Chase appeared to be irate and Kathy was looking particularly uneasy.

"Hey, Gill!" Chase called to the Mayor's son who was scanning over a clipboard that Molly recognized as the same one from earlier that morning.

The haughty blonde stopped and turned to look curiously over at the bar's chef. Molly, too, couldn't help but glance over to watch the young man, feeling suddenly quite anxious at the sound of Chase's tone and the look on his face – a look she had never seen before.

In the blink of an eye, Chase swung his arm.

There was a loud, sickening _crack_, a sharp gasp from Kathy, and a sudden rush of blood.

"_Fuck you,_" Chase bellowed.

Gill crumpled to the ground, holding his nose as thick red liquid oozed at an alarming pace from between his fingers; he was groaning and swearing loudly. Chase was looking ready to give the young man a swift kick for added measure, but Kathy yanked him away, hissing words Molly couldn't quite make out from her distance.

"You broke my nose, you asshole! You _bastard_!" Gill was wailing miserably.

Her wide, shocked gaze connected with Chase's for a brief moment before he turned and walked across the courtyard with Kathy. When Molly turned to look at Wizard beside her, he was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Sorry this chapter is another short one - I'm still dealing with my little bout of writer's block so my updates are slowing and suffering a bit. And I'm sorry for the way I portray Gill in this story, haha. He's definitely in my top ten Harvest Moon bachelors of all time, but he fits into more of an antagonistic role in this fic. I do love him though! And I haven't forgotten about the festival! It just hasn't happened yet.

Thank you so much for the reviews on my last chapter, Yami's Girl 117, Rune, MayumiL, Dexterra, Karina, and Dahlia Derbyshire! I really, really appreciate the support! (:


	13. Chapter 12: Sonata Tailoring

**Chapter Twelve**  
><strong>Sonata Tailoring<strong>

_It was night, though the lack of visible stars and moon left the setting eerie and ambiguous. Two men were barely visible through the darkness: one a being of immense stature – easily two times as large as a normal man – and the other of more hominal caliber. The shorter man was veiled beneath the hood of a dark robe, obscuring the details of his face and withholding them from even the slightest chance of being seen through what scarce, dull light there was. The larger man was little more than a silhouette – ominous and looming, broad and profound – with long, serpent-like tresses slithering around him in the breezeless air. They stood across from each other, only a few feet apart._

_"Your perseverance is meritorious, Little Mage," the words reverberated against the stony walls, so loud and with such force that the fragments and splinters of rock beneath them quivered, "though your efforts are in vain."_

_"Skonha hen, snälah," the hooded man begged, his voice strong yet dwarfed in the wake of his friend or foe's._

_"You've let yourself get too invested – in a human, no less. You are a fool." His stern tone then shifted abruptly, softening, as if speaking to a child, "The solution is right in front of you. All you must do is bring her to me."_

_"Snälah... snälah..."_

_"A life for a life, Little Mage. It's the price that must be paid."_

* * *

><p>"You look like shit," Luna said, pulling Molly's dreamy gaze away from the window of Sonata Tailoring.<p>

It was Friday morning, though it could have easily been evening. Rain had come in the night and poured from the stagnant cloud that had swelled and darkened to an even more sinister shade than its usual aggressive grey. Molly had never seen such rain in her life; it came down thick and heavy, soaking the island and threatening to flood if it didn't, by some miracle, let up soon. The stones of the road in Harmonica Town glistened dully under the blue-hued streetlamps which had been kept on for the day due to lack of light in the storm. From time to time a deep rumble of thunder from above would rattle the window panes, though no assaulting flashes of lighting ever preceded it.

Molly hadn't packed a dress or anything nicer than a few blouses that screamed _secretary_ or were painfully starchy – or both. In truth, Molly didn't own that many dresses to begin with and those that she did had been packed safely into cardboard boxes and left to gather dust in her parents' attic many, many miles away. The clothing she wore to the office at SIHA headquarters in the city – button-up blouses, skirts, modest heels – was not particularly suited to her own personal style either. Appearance and professionalism were important in her field of work, especially when attending meetings with other organizations or reporting to her higher-ups (Phil admirably excluded). In her leisure time, though there hadn't been much of it in the city since starting her job, Molly was content in fitted jeans, a pair of cute shoes and a plain shirt, or even a casual cotton frock if the weather back home was feeling particularly gracious.

Being a twenty-two year old woman with a professional career, high-level intelligence and a deep-rooted desire to help people in need often came into violent, obvious conflict with the fact that, beneath it all, she was still very young and full of reckless ideologies that she tried to keep at bay; she swore often, she let emotions get the better of her, and, since coming to Castanet, she was finding it difficult to keep her professional and personal lives completely separate. Was attending a traditional festival on the island she was supposed to be helping considered inappropriate? Or was it because the event was considered to be 'romantic' that it made her feel like she was crossing some sort of invisible line? Despite her inner conflict, she had made a promise and, assuming the weather allowed it, was to attend the Firefly Festival with Chase the following day.

It was the matter of a dress to wear that brought Molly into Sonata Tailoring that morning. She had left it until the morning before the festival to get the situation sorted and one desperate call to Candace Martin had landed her in the hands of the blue and pink haired sisters of the tailoring shop. Shelly, the short, elderly woman with the gentle smile who owned the store and also happened to be their grandmother, was in the care of Doctor Jin for the time being ('_Just a cold_,' Candace had said), leaving the three young women alone and Molly especially vulnerable to the impending gossip storm that Luna was surely about to brew.

"I haven't been sleeping well," Molly explained to the pink-haired sister as she forced herself from the view of the rain outside that had been so mesmerizing. "I keep having nightmares."

Sonata Tailoring was a modest shop and, like most stores on Castanet Island, served as both their place of business and their home; the actual living quarters were sectioned off and hidden behind a door to the right. The store itself was lined with shelves with neatly folded stacks of clothing on top and littered around the room were headless mannequins of various sizes – most androgynous, several vaguely female – that boasted a range of different styles. There were casual dresses, impeccably tailored suits for men, jumpers for small children, and a wide selection of blouses. Showcased in the very center of the room was a beautiful white wedding dress covered in layers of pearly lace.

"Did you make this, Candace?" Molly called to the blue-haired sister who was seated at a sewing table across the room, the machine in front of her making rhythmic _clank, clank, clanks_.

Candace looked up from her work and smiled meekly. "Y-yes." Her voice was soft and her tone a bit unsure.

Molly always wondered if it was the resonant demeanor of her younger sister that caused Candace to turn out to be so timid, though it was far too rude of a question to ask. At twenty-one, Candace was just shy of a foot taller than sixteen year-old Luna, with a head of long blue hair that had been weaved into two braids and cut bluntly along the bangs to frame her round, pale, and extraordinarily beautiful face. If Candace was any more womanly in shape compared to her younger and seemingly hardly-pubescent sister, Molly didn't know; Candace was always hidden beneath thick layers of shirts, sweaters, long skirts and shiny black loafers. The older Martin sister was the talent behind the shop, Molly was certain, while Luna provided the boisterous personality and refined business smarts that were needed to run a successful operation.

"It's beautiful," Molly whispered as she ran her fingertips lightly over the texture of the lace. Pulling her hand away, she turned to look at Candace who had resumed her work with the sewing machine. "If I ever get married, would you make my wedding dress? I'd come all the way out from the city."

Candace glanced up, her foot sliding off the pedal beneath her and the machine chugging to a stop. "Of course. It would be an h-honor," she stammered, her bright blue eyes – the exact same shade as Luna's – growing wide.

"Great," Molly grinned.

"You know, I'm a bit surprised you're going to the festival with Chase," Luna announced thoughtfully, having come up behind Molly and began to accost her waist with a string of measuring tape.

The brunette lifted her arms awkwardly, trying to let Luna do her work. "Why's that?" Molly asked, feeling a bit defensive.

"Oh, you know," Luna waved a dismissive hand before wrapping the tape around Molly's bosom, "I thought for sure you'd say yes to Owen." She then prattled off a few numbers to her sister.

Molly, trying to ignore the measuring of her chest, frowned at the wall. "How did you know Owen asked me?"

"Because I told him to."

Her brown eyes went wide before slitting into a glare that threatened to burn holes in the wallpaper she was staring at. "That was _you_?" Despite her annoyance, Molly was just glad she hadn't pulled Kathy aside to scold her for what she had assumed the blonde had set up – not Luna.

"Well, yeah," Luna said innocently and Molly turned around to look down at her, forcing the glare off her face. "I didn't know you were going with Chase already so I assumed you were still dateless."

Molly puffed her cheeks out before sighing and folding her arms against her chest. Of course, she_ had_ been dateless until Owen asked her, and if weren't for Chase's quick thinking and smooth charm, she surely would have explained to the apprenticing blacksmith that she wasn't going to the festival at all, and therefore couldn't go even if Chase had asked her later – being there with another guy after claiming she wasn't going would have hurt Owen's feelings.

"Well, thank you anyway," Molly said, feigning what she could of gratitude.

"I'm going to the festival with Luke," Luna announced in an abrupt swell of pride. Despite her claim just a few weeks before that her affections had shifted, she seemed visibly pleased with herself.

Molly, not quite knowing how to take that news, did her best to stifle a giggle. Little Luna – with her child-like body, her glossy pink curls, her cherry scented lip balm and her youthful manner of dress – being paired off with Luke – the tall, gangly, stubbled young man – incited great amusement in her. How Luna had convinced Luke to agree to such an arrangement was beyond her, though Molly suspected it wasn't on the same romantic pretenses that Luna appeared to be expecting.

"That's great," Molly said with a wide smile, maintaining her composure.

"Yup," Luna chimed, before frowning and nudging her head in the direction of Candace, who was working quietly at her desk. "Poor Candy's gotta go with Gill and now his face is a mess because your boyfriend hit him yesterday."

A scowl pulled Molly's eyebrows together. "Chase isn't my boyfriend," she insisted. "And _believe me_, I have no control over what he does."

Luna rolled her eyes and smirked.

Turning back around, the brunette smiled hesitantly at Candace. "I _am_ sorry that Chase hit your boyfriend though, Candace."

Candace paused her work once more to look up and offer and meek smile. "It's alright… I know it's not your f-fault." Her words lacked sincerity, though Molly didn't think the girl was necessarily angry with her, per say.

"Is it… bad? His face, I mean…" Molly asked cautiously, walking over to the desk in the corner of the room where Candace had been feeding a tangle of black fabric through the ancient-looking sewing machine. Molly hadn't seen Gill since the incident in the courtyard the previous afternoon; she hadn't even spoken to Chase, though she did consider calling him that evening before deciding against it.

"He's swollen and p-pretty bruised… It's n-not broken though… Doctor Jin says he'll be fine in a few weeks," Candace explained, a sweet smile on her lips that seemed slightly inappropriate for the situation. It was just Candace being polite, Molly knew.

"That's good."

"Mhm. I'm a-almost done…" Candace murmured as she turned her focus back her work, filling the room with the clanking sound of the machine once more.

As the blue-haired woman finished up, Molly was drawn in to an elaborate slice of gossip that Luna had procured from Kathy who had heard it from Renee who had accidentally read it in a note intended for her mother, Hanna, that had been written by Colleen, who had overhead it from Mira (and so on), about Anissa being with child – presumably that of Jin's. Molly only half-listened, nodding at all the right times and sometimes humming a well-placed '_hmm_' and '_oh, you don't say?_' as she lingered in front of the shelves, stopping to appreciate a piece of clothing that Candace had made.

It wasn't long before the prattle of the sewing machine died down and Candace snipped the last offending threads. She stood from her desk, holding up a beautiful black dress with a fitted bodice and flared skirt made from layers of black gauze. "Done," Candace announced with a charming touch of pride.

Molly turned from the blouse she was admiring and grinned at the sight. "It looks beautiful, Candace."

"Try it on!" Luna insisted, walking over to her sister and snatching the masterpiece right out of her hands. The gesture didn't seem to bother Candace, however, as she continued to beam happily and followed behind Luna as they both approached. Luna held the garment up to Molly's frame before forcing it into her hands. "Come on now, put it on!"

Molly's brown eyes roamed around the shop before settling back on Luna. "Do you guys have a dressing room or…?"

Luna frowned. "Well, no, not technically. I mean, we have a bathroom you could change in, but don't be silly!"

Before Molly could protest, Luna's hands were already on her, tugging and pulling at her clothes. She stripped down to her undergarments – black and lacey – before hastily unzipping the dress and stepping into it. "I hope you're not going to do this to Luke on your date," she muttered with a smirk as she pulled the dress on.

Luna only rolled her eyes in annoyance before zipping up the back of the dress for Molly. "There you go," Luna chimed, her lips curling into a satisfied grin at the sight of the young woman.

Molly turned around to face a nearby full-length mirror that was propped against a wall. The dress was beautiful and fit her impeccably, the skirt falling a few inches above her rosy knees. "It's perfect, Candace," she breathed, running a hand over her stomach as she twisted this way and that to admire it in the mirror.

"I-I'm glad you like it, Molly," Candace said, looking quite pleased. "Do you need sh-shoes to go with it?"

Thinking the question over for a moment, Molly sighed. "I didn't bring any nice shoes with me."

"We have shoes here! What's your favorite color?" Luna asked.

"Blue – well, teal."

"I th-think we have something in the b-back," Candace stammered to her sister before walking to the back of the room and slipping through a door that must have lead to some kind of stock room. She emerged moments later, holding a pair of shiny satin flats, teal in color with a large bow on the front of each. "I do hope they f-fit," she murmured as she handed them over to Molly. "We import shoes to sell from the city b-but we don't carry them in many sizes."

Molly slipped them on, noticing a bit of tightness despite her already small feet, though it was nothing she couldn't bear for one night. "They're great. I'll take them."

The silver bell above the door chimed, causing all three women to turn. In the doorway was Selena Attar and Maya Kinley, their hair and jackets soaking wet from the raw weather outside.

"_Helloooo_!" Maya chortled, waltzing right into the store.

Maya was one of the residents of Castanet that Molly had had the least amount of interaction with since arriving on the island; she was the daughter of Jake and Colleen, the owners of the Inn, and, to Molly's understanding, Chase's ex-girlfriend. They had met briefly one afternoon when Molly had stopped by the Ocarina Inn to have a brief interview with Jake in regards to the island, and Molly had only seen Maya around town on a few occasions and at the weekly town meetings following the initial introduction. Like her mother, Maya had a head of short, shockingly copper hair. Despite being nineteen, her personality seemed bubbly and child-like – about the way Molly would have expected Luna to act had she not actually known of the pink haired girl-child's haughty demeanor.

"Oooh, don't you look cute as a cherry pie?" Maya doted, walking over to admire Molly's dress.

The brunette smiled awkwardly. "Thanks." Whether or not Maya knew that Molly would be attending the Firefly Festival with Chase that year, she wasn't certain. Molly didn't know the details of Chase's relationship with Maya – when exactly it had ended, how long it had lasted, or who had even initiated the split.

The subject, unfortunately, proved to be unavoidable.

"Who are you going to the festival with?" Maya asked, tilting her head innocently to one side.

Molly forced a smile. "I'm going with Chase."

"Oh," Maya said, a line creasing in her forehead and then disappearing as quickly as it had come.

"Who are you going with?" Molly asked hastily, hoping to steer the conversation away from any and all things Chase-related.

"Owen," Maya announced, seeming to perk back up. "He asked me a few days ago."

"That's great. Owen seems like a really wonderful guy," Molly said.

Luna cleared her throat loudly, causing Molly to turn. The gesture wasn't intended for them, however, as the pink-haired girl had folded her arms against her tiny chest and was glaring at Selena, who lingered back by the front door. Molly, admittedly, hadn't had more than a few real interactions with Selena either, though she often saw the curvaceous, tanned woman dancing at the Brass Bar at night.

"I don't remember you ordering a dress for the festival," Luna accused.

The girl's graceless behavior didn't seem to faze Selena as a wry smirk curled at her lips. "I didn't," she replied simply in her deep, smoky voice that Molly had watched men nearly fall to their knees at the mercy of. "I just came with Maya to get her dress. I'll be wearing a dress of my own tomorrow."

"Oh, that's nice," Luna huffed before walking over to a nearby shelf and refolding a stack of already perfectly folded clothes.

Molly, simply drowning in the awkwardness that was now filling the tailor's shop, was rescued by Candace. The blue-haired girl had appeared beside Maya with a large, flat white box in her hands.

"H-here, Maya," Candace said, offering the box to the redheaded girl.

"Yay! Thank you, Candy!" Maya giggled in her high-pitched voice as she took it.

"I-I'll see y-you at the festival tomorrow?"

"Yup!" Maya beamed before turning and walking over to Selena with a sort of hop-skip in her step.

"Bye, Maya. Goodbye, Selena," Molly called after them with a meager wave.

Maya turned around to mimic the gesture; Selena walked out of the shop without so much as a second glance. As the door closed behind them, Luna let out a loud, exaggerated sigh, as if the entire minute-long interaction had been the worst kind of burden.

"Why don't you like Selena?" Molly asked bluntly, trying to recall any mention of a reason that might have been told to her by Kathy or by Luna herself – one probably had been, but Molly likely wasn't listening.

Luna spun around on her heels, frowning. "Because she's trashy and gross. She makes her living dancing around half-naked for all the guys here._ Yuck_." Luna scrunched her nose up childishly. "Besides, she was with Luke before."

"But I thought you liked—" Molly pinched her lips closed abruptly, realizing all at once what she had been about to say in front of Candace.

"_I like Luke_," Luna insisted with a look of warning to Molly, who only nodded. "Besides, doesn't it bother you to see Maya? I mean, they slept together!"

"No… I mean… I don't know – I don't think so." She turned and looked to the door where Maya had disappeared, her forehead creasing and her lips turning to a frown. "I guess I never thought about it before…"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Sorry if some of these chapters (including this one) feel a little filler-y. I enjoy throwing in chapters that build characterization for character besides Molly and her two love interests, even if they aren't necessarily pertinent to the main storyline c: Plus if I just did chapters on the plot, I could easily finish the whole story off in like, 10 chapters - and that's no fun! Haha. I'm trying to move forward at a slower pace and develop things as I go along, especially since the main storyline encompasses a decent chunk of time. But the next chapter will be the Firefly Festival (finally)!

On an unrelated note, is Maya a redhead or blonde? I've always considered her a redhead because her hair is so orange-ish, but I've seen other people refer to her both as a redhead and as a blonde in their stories. I'm not too sure!

Thank you to Momoka Ribbon, the mysterious anon user, MayumiL, seyeraitak, and Nadezhdaa for the comments and support on my last chapter! And a special shout-out to Accidentally The Whole Fanfic who has been reading through and reviewing literally all of the chapters of my longfics! It's SO appreciated and I'm so glad you're all enjoying my stuff!


	14. Chapter 13: Fireflies and Moonlight

**Chapter Thirteen****  
><strong>**Fireflies and Moonlight**

By Saturday morning the skies had settled from the violent downpour to a more neutral, industrial grey kind of overcast that had become the pinnacle of so-called _'nice weather' _on Castanet Island. There was some part of Molly that had, deep down, been hoping that the weather would not permit the festival to go on as scheduled. Any sort of date – in whatever capacity that her attendance with Chase that evening could be considered a _date_ – had always made Molly a touch nervous. The usually confident, articulate young woman with the boisterous edge that came in fleeting waves that she was on a typical day had been reduced (on several occasions) to a blubbering, jittery mess of a schoolgirl when arranged on one of the infamous 'blind dates' that a best friend of hers from the city, Grace, so dearly loved to torment her with. It wasn't the self-doubt that seemed to paralyze and reduce Molly to an awkwardness reminiscent of pubescent school dances, but rather the notion of being placed on a pedestal to be judged against previous flames and preconceived expectations. Molly had dated and been in a handful of relationships in the past, but had rarely truly allowed herself to be connected completely with another person. The notion that another person could somehow _complete_ her seemed both foolish and, quite honestly, overwhelming frightening.

But Chase was different, wasn't he? Molly had spent days convincing herself that he was – that the situation was different. Just a friend, it was all he could ever reasonably be. Sure, he was tall and handsome and charming and talented and the perfect mixture of casual confidence and sarcastic wit, but he could never be anything more than a pretty friend; in barely four months, she would be leaving the island altogether and would have to return to her life in the bustling city, far away from the pleasant simplicity of Castanet that Molly could still somehow recognize beneath the anguish and despair that had settled with the current conditions.

Also lending to slight dread for the Firefly Festival was the impending awkwardness between herself and many of the villagers following the town meeting days before. Molly knew that – thanks to Gill – at least a handful of people were not particularly her biggest fans and had clearly expected her to perform some sort of instant miracle to solve the seemingly unsolvable.

After a morning of monotonous chores and an afternoon of filling the modest living area of her farmhouse with the rhythmic clicking of typewriter keys – the deadline of her fourth case report was rapidly approaching – Molly managed to pull herself from her work in order to get herself ready for the evening. As always, she kept her make-up light and simple: a smudge of flared black liner above each eye, some mascara, and a kiss of rogue on each cheek. She ran a comb through her short locks, making note to trifle with her fringe until it fell in an especially pleasing manner. Her dress and shoes, courtesy of the Martin sisters, were paired with a dark grey cardigan to abate the drab but not quite chilly weather.

It was just as she was picking a few tufts of white fleece from the black fabric of her dress that a knock came at her door. Her heart seemed to hiccup painfully in her chest before settling. Molly stumbled over to greet her visitor, yanking open the old brass doorknob to find Chase framed in the doorway: his auburn hair tousled, his face relatively clean-shaven and free of shadowed stubble, and dressed in a tailored grey jacket over a black shirt, dark fitted jeans, and a pair of black shoes.

He plucked the cigarette from between his lips long enough to say, "You look nice," as if it were a surprise. An amused little half-smile was curled across his lips.

"_Thanks_," Molly bit back, but smiled nonetheless.

"Ready to go then?" he asked.

Molly glanced back into the house, contemplated her wallet on the couch, then turned back to Chase and nodded. "Yes." She stepped out into the cool, faux summer night, joining Chase by his side as he led her away from her farm.

"I wouldn't take you for a festival kind of guy," Molly announced after they had rounded the southern fence and reached the dirt path leading to the Flute Fields district.

Chase chuckled before reducing his cigarette to a stub. "You're right," he said as he smothered its ember out on a nearby fence post, and then laid it to rest gingerly in the center. "I've been to a couple since I moved here, but I generally stay away from them. They're pretty boring and the whole… _happy-little-village _vibe isn't really my thing."

"I guess I can see that," Molly laughed, looking up at the darkness of the sky: black, sickeningly _black_. "Honestly, I'm a bit nervous," she admitted, not taking her eyes off the inky blanket above them. "I mean, after the whole meeting last week, you know…"

"Why? Just because Craig and a few other people were being assholes?" Chase's forehead had creased as he watched the girl beside him.

"Well, yeah." Molly glanced over, forcing what she could of a smile but only managing an uneasy grimace.

"Don't even worry about them. They won't give you any shit tonight," he assured matter-of-factly.

"Or what?" she laughed. "You're going to punch them in the nose too?"

A grin spread across Chase's face, his white teeth glinting under the streetlamps. "For the record," he said, holding up a defensive hand, "I've thought Gill was a prick way before you came here. That was just the last straw. Besides," he shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket, "he had it coming. _Trust_ me."

"If you say so," she said with a smirk and rolled her eyes.

The Firefly Festival was being held in Flute Fields, on a modest little riverbank area at the bottom of a slope and beside a shabby looking building. Protruding from the side of the building was a massive wooden water wheel, partially submerged into the river below. The giant cog was eerily still, emitting no effortful groans or sighs; the river in front of them and the ocean water that surrounded them, for as far as could be seen from the shore, looked nothing more than a sheet of black glass. At the top of the slope, a pink banner had been erected, _FIREFLY FESTIVAL_ scrawled across it in crude, bright green letters. Sickly looking garland had been twisted around the poles supporting it and seemed to infest the edge of a large table that had been set up nearby and draped in a pearly tablecloth. The edges of the slope were lined with beautiful and intricately crafted flowers made of thin, translucent paper and illuminated by gently flickering tea lights inside. The table was covered with the same flower lanterns, a pile of unused tea lights and several books of matches set in the center, and beside it was a crate filled with rolled up bamboo mats, dyed a variety of colors, for sitting. The scene was a bustle of people: girls in dresses made from a rainbow of pretty gauze, young fellows looking only slightly more clean-cut than usual. Everyone seemed be speaking softly amongst each other – almost in whispers – as if the volume of a normal voice would shatter the ominous yet somehow still unusually peaceful quiet that had settled. A soft, somber orchestra poured out of some unseen radio, adding a doleful soundtrack to the event.

Molly glanced over the faces who had gathered: Maya, in a pink mess of tulle and dully glittering rhinestones (made by Candace and beautifully fitted, but clearly of the design of Maya), was hanging off the thick bicep of Owen and looking minified in comparison; Kathy, in a simple green frock, was engaged in conversation with the exceptionally handsome Calvin, sitting only inches apart from him and looking as if she might engage a full-on assault on his mouth at any given moment; Luna and Luke crouched at the water's edge; Anissa and Jin (rumored to be expecting) stood together at a comfortable distance, admiring their lanterns; Toby and Renee held hands by the water wheel; Candace, in her signature blue hue but a startlingly figure-flattering dress, was perched beside a very bruised and battered looking Gill on an old wooden crate. Ruth sat on a blue mat with her ever irate husband, Craig, and was looking not-so especially pleased herself. Barbara was prattling in a glum whisper to her husband, Simon, and daughter, Phoebe. Hayden seemed to be consoling a morose looking Mira who had her pink, swollen nose buried in a lavender kerchief. Selena, a show of glinting golden accessories and a luxurious, exotic looking royal blue dress, seemed to have attached herself to Perry, of all people, who appeared to be in some kind of flushing daze. Yolanda and Colleen idled in the back.

"They really go all out for this thing, don't they?" Molly breathed in quiet disbelief to Chase.

"_Tell_ me about it," Chase drawled back.

"Welcome, Molly, Chase," Mayor Hamilton greeted from behind the table of virgin lanterns, his voice just loud enough to break the appropriate quiet that he himself seemed oblivious to.

"Good evening, Mayor Hamilton," Molly replied politely as they approached, her voice much more muted in comparison.

"Why don't you both choose a lantern? We'll be floating them in about thirty minutes," the Mayor instructed kindly.

Molly glanced over the table in front of her; the lanterns were a jumbled rainbow of pinks, reds, blues, greens, and yellows. Finding a sapphire blue she particularly liked, the brunette plucked it up with a smile and then turned to look at Chase, whose brows had furrowed charmingly in contemplation. He settled on a rosy red and grabbed two tea lights, stuffing them into one of his back pockets.

"Thanks, Mayor," Chase said coolly before turning to grab a green bamboo mat with his free hand.

"Have fun, you two," the Mayor chirped, failing to recognize the weirdness in the way he had said it – or perhaps, less likely, intending it completely.

Molly gave the Mayor an awkward wave before turning to follow Chase down the slope to the flat landing where the people had gathered near the water's edge. Several hushed greetings were exchanged as she walked, most from far away; Kathy mouthed a sentiment that went undeciphered, though Molly assumed it was obscene.

Chase unfurled the blue mat, laying it out for them to sit on. With a smile, Molly smoothed the back of her dress before taking a seat, setting her lantern in front of her and folding her pale legs together modestly. Chase joined her, surrendering his lantern and the tea lights beside hers and seating himself. Molly turned to stare at the view of the ocean, which wasn't much of a view at all: the blackness of the water melted with the blackness of the sky, no hint of the point in which the two met. Since coming to Castanet, it was a sight she still hadn't adjusted to, and she had a sneaking suspicion that no one else had either.

"So, what's this festival about, anyway?" Molly asked in a hushed voice, leaning closer to Chase. He smelled like aftershave.

"I guess it's about commemorating our deceased ancestors and loved ones," Chase breathed, "but most young people just like to use it as an excuse for a date."

Molly glanced around, indeed noticing that the majority of the younger generation seemed to look carefree, especially contrasted against those like Mira and Hayden, who appeared utterly forlorn. "Oh," she whispered, turning to look back at Chase.

Knowing the true meaning of the festival made her feel a bit uncomfortable, though Chase's presence somehow eased her discomfort. There was something about Chase… something Molly couldn't quite put her finger on. She felt at ease around him – safe, even. He made her feel like it wasn't her against everyone – against the world, against physics and the universe – but rather like someone was on her side too.

Her brown eyes roamed, noticing several distasteful glances from Craig and a constant, relentless glare from Gill several yards away. She should have cared – normally she_ would_ have cared – but in that moment, she didn't.

"Don't worry about them," Chase smiled.

Molly turned to see him watching her, a smile of her own curling her rosy lips. "I'm not."

The faint music shifted to an even more melancholy tune.

"Why do they call it the 'Firefly Festival'?" she asked quietly.

Chase shrugged. "Usually around this time of year, there are tons of fireflies at night. It's really beautiful, actually. But since all this weird stuff starting happening to the island, we don't see too many insects sticking around."

Molly frowned. "I see."

"Been to see the fortune teller lately?" Chase asked with surprising casualness, despite the abrupt shift to such a sensitive subject for the both of them.

Molly hesitated, shifting her gaze into her lap. What an unusual question. Chase had always seemed so quick to anger – so short fused – and their so-called 'date' didn't seem like an appropriate place to quarrel. "Not since the last meeting, right before you punched Gill in the face," she said with a wheezing chuckle, trying to keep the subject as light and as cavalier as he had. It felt like they had talked the same frustrating, senseless conversation too many times before already.

"And… you really think he might be able to help you?" Chase's tone was soft, but clearly masking a frustrated skepticism.

"Chase," Molly started gently, looking up into his violet-blue eyes, "I don't know if he can help me. I really don't know much of anything at this point. I mean, I came here knowing this island was going to be a tough case… that it was going to be something completely unlike anything I've ever seen or read about, but…" She sighed heavily. "I don't understand why all this is happening and if Wizard tells me that he might know, even if it sounds _insane_, then I think I need to listen to him and do whatever he tells me to do."

Chase seemed to consider this for a moment before, surprisingly, giving an understanding shrug. "I guess you're right," he said.

"I'm _what_? What did you just say?" Molly asked with smug disbelief, leaning into him and stifling a giggle.

He chuckled dryly, rolling his eyes the way he so often did. "I said you're _right_."

"That's what I thought," Molly smiled haughtily, smoothing the skirt of her dress. "I just wanted to hear you say it again."

"I still think it's fucking _stupid_. And insane. And potentially dangerous," he added to his defense.

Molly sighed impassively and shrugged up one shoulder. "It's my job, Chase."

All at once, he grew rather somber. "Yeah, I know it is," he said.

"_Look_!" a woman's voice from somewhere behind them called, breaking the hushed peacefulness of whispers and melancholy music. There were gasps, excited chatters, and breathless whispers of _'oh my Goddess'_.

It took Molly a moment to realize what was causing such a sudden commotion. It wasn't until Chase placed one hand – warm and slightly rough – on her bare knee and nodded up to a place in the sky that Molly understood: the cloud, ever swollen and unmoving, had opened like a gash – like a rip in fabric – revealing a deep, midnight blue sky beyond and a peppering of faintly glinting stars. It was small at first, but growing at an agonizingly slow but still recognizable pace.

Molly's heart immediately sank, though she didn't know why. "What's happening?" she breathed with fear rattling her voice. She, like the rest of the people gathered around, did not dare to take her eyes off the rare glimpse of stars.

"I don't know," Chase uttered, sounding a touch concerned himself.

They sat in silence for what felt like hours but must have been minutes, simply staring at the miraculous sight. His hand stayed on her knee and she reached out to place her own pale, slender hand on his forearm. Her mind raced. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Her heart did a war dance in her chest.

The hole in cloud opened slowly, though reached no more than a few inches if some sort of measuring device had been held up to the sky from where they sat – revealing little in the grand scheme of the mass of cloud, but carrying a heavy connotation. As the wound continued to grow, the moon came into view: a sliver of bright pearly light, slowly transforming into an almost complete circle. The moonlight bathed them, illuminating the awe-stricken faces, the glossy surface of the water and the old, worn cogs of the water wheel.

"I don't remember the last time I saw the moon," Chase murmured, sounding uncharacteristically sentimental. "It's funny, the simple things you take for granted until they're suddenly gone…"

An abrupt breeze tickled the nape of Molly's neck – light, but enough to ruffle her thick locks of hair.

"This is so weird," Molly said in a hushed voice, placing her free hand over her heart to feel its hiccupping beat.

Yards away, several dim lights performed a slow, rhythmic mating dance in the air above the water; fireflies.

"If I can have your attention, please," the Mayor's jovial voice called. With great effort, gazes tore away from the sky to turn and see the Mayor. He, forever doomed in his shortness, stood atop an overturned wooden crate. "With the sudden, pleasant turn of events, I think now is the perfect time to launch our lanterns. If everyone would please light and place their candles and make their prayers, we can send them out to sea."

Molly turned to look at Chase, both of them finally pulling their hands away from each other. He fumbled to pull a lighter out of a pocket of his jeans; he seemed distracted, though she couldn't blame him. The small white candles were lit and placed in the base of the lanterns, the intricate petals of the faux flowers lighting up in flickering glow.

"I don't really pray," Molly whispered to Chase as she stared down into the fiery heart of the blue paper flower in her hands.

"Neither do I," he reasoned. "Make a wish instead?"

She smiled. "Alright." Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath, her heart still racing from all the excitement and uncertainty. _'I wish that could save Castanet Island_,_'_ she thought without hesitation; a simple wish, but one she held dear and wanted more than anything else in that moment.

_'But are you ready to pay the price for such a silly little dream?' _a voice replied, reverberating through her head and sending a shiver down her spine. It was loud and deep, so powerful that it quite literally ached – unplaceable, yet somehow oddly familiar.

Her heart seemed to stop in her chest. "What the_ fuck_," she groaned softly, reaching one hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"Are you alright?"

When she blinked her eyes open, Chase was staring at her with his eyebrows pulled together and his forehead creased in concern. Molly, feeling suddenly quite flush and shaky, glanced around to the faces of the people surrounding them who all busied with preparing their lanterns or praying silently. No one else seemed to have noticed anything peculiar, let alone a booming question.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she managed with an uneasy smile at Chase. She was going crazy, wasn't she? It suddenly didn't seem so out of the question.

"Are you sure?" Chase asked, stepping forward to brush a stray, unruly lock of fringe that had fallen in front of her brown gaze.

Her cheeks stained a shade of scarlet, barely out of sight under the dim moonlight and the warm, flickering brightness from the lantern in her hand. "I'm sure," she insisted a bit forcefully, not appreciating being even more flustered by a man when she was busy trying to discern if she had lost her mind completely or just partially. _Pay the price_. What did that mean?

"If you say so," Chase said with a sudden smirk.

He led her slowly down to the water's edge, where people had already begun to set their illuminated lanterns on the surface of the water. A thin, lightweight square of wood attached to the bottom of each lantern kept the water from ruining the intricately made and quite fragile paper flower. The ones that had been cast from the shore floated lazily on the inky surface of the river, hardly moving at all between the light breezes that blew in which felt foreign and strange against Molly's bare legs.

Chase placed his lantern first, giving it a gentle nudge in order to float it out to join the others. Molly watched the dancing red lantern for a moment before kneeling down to cast off her own. They twirled away together, blue chasing red, until they settled into place and carried on a gentle rocking motion, perturbed occasionally by the wind. Several fireflies had migrated over the narrow river, performing their ballet over the many lanterns.

"This is kind of anticlimactic," Chase said in a hushed voice, his arm brushing against hers. "Usually they're swept right out to the ocean."

Molly, despite her uneasiness and down-right fear of the voice that had echoed through her head moments before, giggled at the sight of dozens of hardly-moving paper flowers. "I wonder how long they'll be there like that," she whispered back.

"Probably forever," he chuckled.

They stood for a while in silence, splitting their attention between the floating lanterns and the hole in the cloud. Molly couldn't decide which she thought was more beautiful, though she certainly knew which one scared her the most.

After a while, Chase wordlessly removed his grey jacket and helped her into it, reducing himself to no more than his black shirt; the mysterious breeze that had suddenly kicked up was rather chilly, and the brunette didn't even need to ask. She thanked him and he draped an arm loosely around her shoulders, flashing her that cocky, charming little grin of his that caused her eyes to roll.

"You're impossible, you know that?" she said with a laugh as they turned to leave, his arm still around her, just the way it had been the night in the bar.

"I know," he said slickly.

Molly waved in silent goodbye to people as they passed; Chase seemed to ignore everyone. They were the last to arrive and one of the first to leave, but neither Molly nor Chase were the type to linger. The sound of voices and a somber instrumental piece were drowned out as they made their way across the bridge and out of the Flute Field district. As he escorted her home, they fell into a discussion about Baroque music that resulted in a promise (after Molly asking seven times) for him to play her something on his flute when he got the next reasonable chance.

They stopped outside at her doorway and turned to face each other on the doorstep, as is customary at the end of most dates when a woman either bids a man goodbye or invites him – subtly or bluntly – in for coffee or a night of indecency.

"Thank you for taking me tonight, Chase," she said.

"Of course. I don't usually like things like this but… tonight was fun." He then paused, his brows furrowing. "Are you sure you're alright? You look a little flush."

Molly, not quite knowing how he could be so perceptive in the dim illumination of her porch light, chuckled. "I promise I'm fine," she assured. "I think the whole… break in the cloud thing kind of unhinged me." She forced a smile, trying not to even think of the strange voice who had responded to her private wish.

Chase rolled his eyes in frustration, but smiled nonetheless. "Whatever you say."

Molly glanced down at her feet, feeling awkward for the first time of the entire date. Was he going to kiss her? She didn't know if she even wanted him to, but she also didn't know how to say goodbye in a way that wouldn't seem completely dodging and rude.

Chase, however, did it for her. "I'll see you at the bar?"

Looking up, Molly smiled meekly. "Yeah, of course."

"Have a good night then," he said with a grin before turning and beginning to walk off.

Molly watched him as he pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his jean pocket, sparking up a long, white cigarette as he left. He had already reached the top of her field when she called abruptly after him, "_Chase_. Your coat!"

He turned curiously, a smirk spreading across his lips as he stopped to watch Molly shrug her way out of his grey jacket. He started back over at a leisurely trot, the white cigarette bobbing in his mouth. His pace then quickened as he reached the doorstep, plucking the cigarette from between his lips as he hopped up the few steps. She held out his jacket with an innocent smile, fully expecting him to snatch it up and turn right back around.

But he didn't. He ignored the offered coat completely, coming right up to her and, pressing her body back a bit roughly against her front door, leaned down and kissed her; it was hard and fiery, gentle and warm, then hard again. She could feel the roughness of one hand cupping her cheek, the other twisting into her hair. His saliva tasted like fresh tobacco; she had never appreciated the smell of aftershave so much. The kiss seemed to go on forever, though it could only have lasted a lesser half of a minute. At some point she had dropped the coat completely, one hand lifting up to his neck and the other digging slight half-moons into his chest through his shirt.

He pulled away abruptly, a wide grin spreading across his face: that stupid, beautiful, frustrating, confidently sexy _grin_. He leaned down and picked the jacket up off the doorstep.

"Night, Molly," he said casually as he placed the cigarette back in his smiling lips and then turned, walking away without another word or so much as a glance over his shoulder. She couldn't tell if that incident was a sign that Chase had an overwhelming amount of self-restraint, or not a single ounce in him.

Molly stood in a blushing, indecent sort of daze, watching as he disappeared down the path leading back to the Flute Field district. When he was out of sight, she glanced one last time up at the moon, framed in the cloud's circular wound. It had not grown since the lanterns had been floated. Sighing, she gathered what she could of her composure and fumbled into her farmhouse.

That night, she tried her best not to think of the kiss. Instead she thought of her visit to the Wizard the following day and all the questions she had for him, never thinking for a moment that she would find what she would the next morning.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> KINDA FLUFFY! At least this chapter is a decently sized one, though my writer's block is_ definitely_ still giving me a headache. I hope you all enjoyed it, at least. I put one of my other longfics, Under Gravity, on temporary hiatus so I can focus on this story and A Million Tomorrows while I'm enduring this block and pumping chapters out more slowly. It's definitely harder to jump into three different mindsets when you have writer's block, so focusing just on these two will hopefully help a lot.

I'm really enjoying writing Chase and giving his character some different dimensions now that he's getting closer to Molly. Wizard's going to be getting plenty of 'screen time' (word time?) coming up here too, don't worry!

Thank you so much for the reviews and support left on my last chapter: Accidentally The Whole Fanfic, Karina, Momoka Ribbon, The Rune Reverend, MayumiL, seyeraitak, and another mysterious Anon reviewer! (: I really appreciate it (I know I always say that, but I really, really do).


	15. Chapter 14: The Blood of an Immortal

**Chapter Fourteen  
>The Blood of an Immortal<strong>

Screams from an old rotary phone filled the room. A hand protruded from a mess of tangled sheets and blankets, fingers clumsily searching for the cool surface of the receiver.

"Hello?" Molly croaked as she pressed the phone to her ear. Her brown gaze struggled into focus, obscured by a set of heavy, lazy lids. The room was bright, garish light drifting in through the space between the blue curtains and the windowpane. An old analog alarm clock next to the phone on the bedside table claimed it was eleven-thirteen. It had been eleven-thirteen for nearly two weeks.

A voice came through the speaker, fighting the static of their horribly out-dated connection. "Molly?"

Molly jolted upright in bed and began rubbing fervently at her eyes with her free hand. "Oh, Phil. What's going on?" she asked with a struggle to clear any hint of the fact that she had just awoke from her voice. She didn't know the real time, and she certainly didn't want her boss to be thinking she was routinely slacking off making sleeping in an everyday vice.

"I've just heard a bit of distressing news," Phil said, his tone quite harsh.

"Oh?" Molly ran her fingers nervously through the tangles of her hair. _Certainly it's about the sky last night,_ she thought. _He must have heard somehow_. "What was it?"

Phil cleared his throat pointedly. "Molly, I don't need to remind you that this is a _case_, do I?"

Molly's heart sank. "What?" she whispered in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

It wasn't characteristic of Phil to get bent out a shape over something as_ minor_ as sleeping in. On a whole, Phil had been a generally tolerable and often mildly amusing kind of boss. He, like Molly, had a personality that seemed to contrast humorously with the straight-lacedness of the jobs they worked and loved so dearly.

There was a long pause, likely drawn out in Molly's head due to her steadily inclining anxiety.

"I've heard that you've found yourself a boyfriend out there,"

"Excuse me? Who told you th–"

"That you've been growing close with many of the locals at the town bar,"

"Phil, I don't underst–"

"And that the efforts we've poured into this case aren't yielding the results we had been hoping for,"

"Well, if you'd just let me–"

"I don't want to have to pull you off this case, Molly," he concluded with an abrupt shift in tone and a heavy, deeply burdened sigh.

"Now wait just a _damn second_," Molly snapped back as anger warmed her flushing cheeks. Her mind was racing with a constant stream of incoherent thoughts and obscenities. "I don't have a _boyfriend_ out here, Phil. Who told you that? Was it Gill Hamilton? 'Cause he's a _liar_ and he's out for my blood, for some reason."

"I don't need to remind you that this is your job, right?" he asked again somberly.

"No!" she cried. "Of course not! Phil, I'm doing the best I can. All my reports have been on time, all of my files are organized and I'm doing all the research I can. Phill, you _know_ me. I always get it done and I do it well."

Phil sighed again. "I know, Molly. I know. But I don't want to have to make this phone call twice, do you understand?"

"Yeah, I get it," she grumbled as she slumped back against the headboard miserably, feeling a mixture of anger, humiliation, and shame.

"Good."

She considered for a moment blurting out about the sky the previous night – it could be considered a sign of progress, though she didn't know if that was actually true or not – to try and throw out anything that might contradict the claim that she had been fooling around and making little to no actual tangible contribution to the seaside town. But she decided against it, realizing it would raise more question than it would answer and they were questions she didn't know how to respond to. Information about Wizard had been carefully and intentionally excluded from her reports for the same reason.

"I have work to get back to. I'll talk to you soon, Phil," she said with evident annoyance, not even trying to mask her tone.

"We're sending more livestock in two days," he said.

"_Perfect_," she seethed, though it was in fact good news.

"Don't forget to–"

Molly slammed the receiver down before she could hear his little reminder. She ground her teeth in frustration as she stared at the wall and attempted to digest what had just happened. "Gill, that little _bastard_…" she hissed under her breath. Tears threatened to sting her eyes and she blinked rapidly to try and subdue them. Molly wasn't going to let herself cry over him – not a second time, at least.

Pulling herself out of the warmth and comfort of her bed that she had been enjoying so thoroughly before that rude interruption, she yanked open a dresser drawer and picked out a pair of dark jeans and a green paid button-up. Dressing, she fumbled over to a cracked mirror on the wall and stared at her reflection. She looked tired and worn with stress – utterly pathetic. Her short, thick locks received a combing and she adjusted her fringe before applying a wing of eyeliner over each eye and a touch of rouge on her cheeks to try and drive away the pale, sickly, miserable look she had acquired. It didn't work.

At the front door she stepped into a pair of black riding boots before yanking the door open and tromping outside. It was a mild day, as it had been the day before and likely would be the day after. Mild days were all they seemed to get under The Cloud, in between violent storms and heavy rain, of course. Far out on the horizon, Molly could see the blueness of the summer day, surely being enjoyed by all in happier places: children lining the shoreline of beaches, families going out for picnics, young lovers carving their initials inside crude hearts in the base of oak trees.

She looked up at the sky. There, in the exact same place it had been when she last glanced up at it the night before, was the hole in the stagnant cloud. The same beautiful pale blueness she could see on the horizon was shining through it, framed by the industrial grey mass. She couldn't see the sun but light poured through it, and somehow that felt like enough. It wouldn't help the crops grow or provide some kind of miracle cure for the island, but it did remind the town of the way things used to be – the way they should _still_ be. Molly remained statued for some time, awestricken and appreciating the blueness above her that she so dearly had missed. She couldn't explain it and for some reason the sight still made her anxious, but it was something she hadn't known how much she had missed until that hole appeared.

Molly hated Gill, she was certain. It was all she could think about as she cared for the animals that morning and all she could think about as she marched into Harmonica Town district, feeling quite in a sour mood. It was early, though she wasn't certain of the exact time, and few villagers strolled lazily through layered town. Molly waved to Anissa who was just emerging from the Choral Clinic and looking quite morose. She didn't stop to chat as the irritation built up inside her and Molly was feeling quite ready to let it out to Wizard, of whom she could already imagine sitting with patient indifference as she whined and moaned about her dislike of the Mayor's presumptuous son over a cup of tea. Unfortunately, that wasn't a picture painted into reality.

When she reached Wizard's house – a white building in the sea of colorful shops and houses – she knocked on the front door. It creaked open ominously, a sliver of darkness coming into view and the familiar scent of incense and spices wafting out. The room was black, the windows likely obscured and the lights all off. Was he not home? Asleep, perhaps? It wasn't like Wizard, who Molly knew kept a minimum of six locks on his door, to so carelessly leave it ajar. Something felt off, wrong, threatening…

For the second time that morning, Molly's heart sank in her chest. "Wizard?" she called in a cracking, high-pitched kind of squeak, peering into the darkness of the room through shred of the open door.

She lingered, hoping for a response but unsurprised when no voice came. A heavy, slightly shaking hand was placed on the thick wooden door with the peeling blue paint as she eased it open. It creaked and screamed sickeningly on its hinges. "Wizard?" she called again. Seeming to have decided no voice was ever going to return her calls, the young woman stepped gingerly inside.

The morning's light behind her, though quite dull, was enough to brighten up the room enough to see: a chair had been knocked over, Wizard's crystal ball lay on the floor. His hooded coat, which appeared to be slightly shredded and covered in a large, dark stain, had been discarded on the rug. Molly gulped and flicked the light switch on, causing a bulb to flash and sputter to life, dim and warm in hue. She closed the door behind her, turning to investigate the newly illuminated scene. On the floor blemishing the wooden slats was a dark liquid that trailed in droplets to the door of Wizard's room. Her breathing hitched and her heart pounded and throbbed agonizingly, liable, she thought, to break one of her ribs.

"What is that…?" she whispered to herself under her breath as she kneeled down to the floor. Dipping two fingers in the liquid, she lifted her hand to stare at the curious substance. It was red and black, two distinct colors that refused to mix as she rubbed it between her fingers – like oil and water.

"Is this… blood?" she breathed incredulously, her brows coming together in anguish. It couldn't be – she didn't want to believe it. "Wizard!" Molly cried out suddenly, her voice shrill and piercing. Standing back up, she made for the bedroom door.

"Wizard, are you in there?" she called frantically as she reached the doorknob. Pausing, she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing a deep, shuddering breath into her lungs before pushing the door open.

Wizard lay on the modest, low-set bed, an orange cotton blanket twisted beneath him. He was motionless, eyes closed and head lulled dreamily to one side. Five deep, gruesome-looking gashes were cut into the top of his left arm, the upper-most wound extending onto his chest, just below his collarbone. Blood, or what Molly could only reasonably assess as blood despite its unusual appearance, oozed down his arm and bare chest, stained the blankets, and pooled in the indent of his navel.

"_Holy shit_," Molly wheezed, walking over to the bed. She had never been in Wizard's bedroom before and it, like the rest of his house, was lined with thick books in what little space the bed did not occupy in such a small area. Perching herself on the edge of the bed, she reached a trembling hand out slowly and placed it on his smooth, toffee-colored chest. He felt warm beneath her fingers. "Wizard?" she whispered gently, giving him a slight nudge with her palm.

At an agonizingly slow pace, the eyes of the Half-Man opened; green and gold and lost in a daze. He didn't look up to meet her frantic stare.

"Wizard, are you alright? What happened?" she asked in a hurried, hushed voice.

"_Da kun… inte vill hönne_…" he breathed unintelligibly, eyelids rising and falling slightly in a rhythmic way.

"Wizard, it's_ me_. It's Molly," she choked through a torrent of fresh tears that began to stain her blushed cheeks. Something about the sight of him – so thin and so frail looking, leaking tiny rivers of black and crimson – shattered her.

"Molly…" he repeated the name as if he had been hearing it for the first time. His eyelids closed again for a long moment before opening. He tilted his head back to stare up at her with a faraway gaze. "Is it… Sunday?"

"It is," Molly croaked, wiping away the moisture from one of her cheeks. "Let me take you to the clinic. Can you walk?" It was a stupid question considering the state of the man but she was finding it difficult to think straight.

"Doctor Jin… cannot help me… these are wounds… incurred from magic…" The corners of his lips twitched up into a forced attempt at a smile.

"What happened?" Molly asked again, staring down at the five wounds. They looked peculiarly straight, each one evenly spaced. Her fingertips trailed across his bare, velvet chest and through the stream of blood that ran from just beneath his collarbone, down to his stomach. Blood had never bothered her before.

"A spell… backfired…" he breathed matter-of-factly before closing his eyes and tilting his head back in a way that Molly found oddly and inappropriately alluring.

Silver-blonde locks of hair fell in front of his eyes and she lifted a hand to brush them away, reminding her suddenly of the night he had come to visit her when she was ill and he had made the same gesture to her. Molly didn't know if she was quite convinced of the so-called Fortune Teller's response, but it hardly seemed the time to argue.

"Is there anything I can do, Wizard? Just tell me how I can help." She lowered her hand to hold his gently, trying to conceal her sniffles and hiccupping cries. It wouldn't do either of them any good for her to fall to pieces at such a moment.

"There is… a potion… for wounds of an immortal… but…" he trailed off.

"But _what_? I can do it, just tell me how," she pleaded, leaning over him with a look of pure desperation.

"Black book… gold embossing… silver lion on the cover… by the… telescope," he instructed, seeming to struggle with the words.

Before he could say anything else, Molly was off the bed and rushing out of the room. She half-tripped, half-climbed up the steps to the massive telescope in the main room, her brown eyes roaming frantically around at the stacks of books that littered the landing. Several columns were searched before a thick black book with fading gold detail caught her eye. Yanking it out so fervently that the books on top of it tumbled to the floor, she held it up. The outline of a silver lion surrounded by an ornate pattern was painted on the cover. It read _LÄKNING DROCKER. _

"Is this it?" Molly asked hopefully as she scurried back into the room, holding the dense omnibus up.

Wizard's lids opened slowly as his head turned to look. "Yes…" he said after a moment. He then shifted with a look of great pain into a sitting position.

Molly winced at the sight. "Just help me find it," she said hurriedly, resuming her seat at the edge of the bed by his side. The cover was flipped open, a smell of old, musty pages tickling her vibrantly pink nose. Blood stained the corners of the off-white pages as she flipped through, her forehead creasing at what she was seeing. "Wizard, I can't read any of this…"

"It's in the language of the Immortals," he explained patiently.

With a frantic stare, Molly glanced back at him. How was she supposed to help him if she couldn't even read the words?

Reaching over slowly with his right hand, Wizard began to flip leisurely through the pages of the ancient book. Molly was beginning to grow restless by the time he arrived at the desired page. There were large title, a few lines of indecipherable text, what appeared to be a list, and several dense paragraphs below it.

"Here… it is," he said.

Molly frowned. "Okay… but… what does it say?"

He pointed to the first word in the list. "Mugwort." Moving on to the second, "Bone powder."

"Wait," Molly instructed, excusing herself to go find a pencil.

She returned after a moment, writing down the translation of the first two ingredients beside their unreadable counterpart. When the next item in the list was not offered, she glanced up curiously. Wizard's lips had curled into a weak, amused little smile as he watched her.

"What?" she asked blankly.

"That book is older… than I am," he explained.

Molly glanced down at the page, smudged with bi-colored blood and now tainted with graphite. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't be." He chuckled a deep, throaty laugh that seemed to pain him. "Fugue mushroom," he offered once he had settled again. "Charred nettle leaf, red pholiota… astragalus, and ephedra. Use the… cast iron pot. Ingredients are… in the cupboard. They're… labeled. Grind them together and… make a paste with a bit… of water. You'll need… a lot."

Without another word, Molly left him. In the modest kitchenette nestled in the far corner of the main room, she found a small, heavy black pot. The cabinets above were filled with large mason jars that had been neatly labeled with their contents in both their recognizable and incomprehensible names. She fumbled through the jars, hastily pulling out each one she knew she'd need. She then dumped the contents of each into the pot, paying no mind to measurements, and went to work with a nearby pestle. When the ingredients were thoroughly powdered, Molly added a bit of water from the tap and then stirred it all together. After dampening a few clean cloths, she picked up the pot and brought it all back into the modest bedroom.

"I think I did it right…" she said softly as she sat at the edge of the bed once more. "At least, I hope so."

Wizard opened his weary eyes to look up at her then down at the foul looking olive-colored paste. He lifted his left hand with great effort, wincing in the process, and placing it over the top of the pot. "_Välsiem vetta drock_," he whispered. Then he glanced back up to the young woman and offered a rare, reassuring smile. "Now it's ready."

"I'm going to try not to hurt you," Molly said with a nervous frown as she placed the pot in her lap and began to dab at his wounds with a wet cloth.

The toffee skinned man closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall and remaining impassive. His face, even though he was clearly in pain, was etched with a look of peaceful indifference. Molly glanced up at him from time to time in worry, only to be met with the same look. The wounds were long, though not terribly deep. Any sane doctor would demand that stitches or staples were necessary but Molly had a feeling that Wizard wouldn't be seeing a 'mortal' doctor anytime soon.

"Wizard, why is your blood black and red?" she asked quietly as she worked on cleaning the cuts.

Wizard opened his eyes and stared curiously at her. "Because… both the blood of a man and the blood of… an immortal run through my veins."

"And they can't mix?"

"No. They are opposing entities… They will never integrate," he explained.

Molly went quiet again as she pondered this. Picking up a remaining clean rag, she began to gently clean the streams of blood from his chest, appreciating the beautiful color of his skin. His torso was long and thin, the divots of his ribs slightly visible through his sides. She was silently thankful that she had opted to wear blush that morning as it hid any natural coloring that might have appeared on her cheeks.

"You made a promise to me. Do you remember?" she asked with a wry smile.

"Remind me," he chuckled, seeming unusually but delightfully expressive that day.

"That you would help me. And I want to know about the Harvest King – you promised to tell me about him."

"I suppose I did," he said, his smile slowly fading. "What… would you like to know?"

Molly shrugged, not really sure what to even ask. "You told me that day we went to see Witch Princess that the Harvest King doesn't like people. Why is that?"

Wizard frowned. "He believes that mortals are… selfish and foolish."

"Why?"

"Because… he is a deity. Some deities… look down on mortal humans…"

"But the Harvest Goddess doesn't," Molly said matter-of-factly; a sentiment she would have never even dreamed of uttering just months prior.

"No, the Harvest Goddess loves mortals. She lives… to protect them," he said.

"Where does the Harvest King live?" Molly asked as she began to very gently rub the paste into Wizard's open wounds.

The Half-Man winced. "I… do not know," he said, turning his head to look away.

"Does he live on the island?"

"Yes."

"But you don't know where?"

Wizard winced and inhaled sharply.

"Sorry," Molly whimpered apologetically, drawing her fingers away from his arm.

"He does live on the island," Wizard said.

"Have you ever met him?" Molly did her best to coat the incisions completely with the strange concoction though there seemed to be little medicine for the size and number of the wounds.

Wizard fell silent, closing his eyes for a long, drawn-out moment. "I have. Once," he said softly. "But that was… many years ago… when the Goddess still thrived."

"Well, maybe he has something to do with the path to the Goddess Tree growing over," Molly reasoned. "Would you be able to get us to the Goddess Tree? I tried with Luke and Bo, but… we didn't reach it, of course. Maybe he's, like… I don't know… shut himself in there?"

Wizard sighed deeply.

"Certainly there has to be a way to get there…" Molly murmured as she paused her work on his arm to gaze into his heterochromic eyes through the dim light of the room. His hair was tousled and tickling at the bold white marking under his golden right eye. He was so unlike anyone Molly had ever met before and quite beautiful.

"There is a way… I can take you there but… I cannot promise that you will… like what we find," he said vaguely.

Molly's features scrunched up in confusion. "Huh?"

"I will take you," he repeated, providing no further explanation.

The brunette took this as a hint to be satisfied and smiled. "We can go after you start feeling better, then?"

"Yes."

"What does the Harvest King look like?" she resumed her questions as she began to coat the last wound with the paste.

"Huge… long red hair… permanent scowl…"

Molly giggled and sighed. "He sounds intimidating."

"Only a fool… would seek him out," Wizard replied bluntly, appearing suddenly quite stern.

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, Molly shrugged. "I guess I'm a fool then."

"A fool… with a good heart," Wizard reasoned, his expression softening.

She caught his gaze, her cheerful expression fading to a curious, thoughtful stare.

"Did you see the hole in the cloud that appeared last night? You can see the sky," Molly said after a moment, her face breaking back into a smile.

Wizard chuckled. "I… did not."

"It's beautiful," she laughed softly. "I really hope it stays for a while, even if it isn't much, you know?"

"So do I, Molly."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Booo, I want my writer's block to go away! :( I'm still trying to work through it. I hope these chapter are coming out alright.

Thank you to therainydaykids, The Rune Reverend, ThePersonWith TheReallyLongName, MayumiL, XxTheSacredHeartxX, and Nova Edgewater for the reviews since my last chapter! I'm really glad people seem to be enjoying this story!


	16. Chapter 15: Secrets

**Chapter Fifteen****  
><strong>**Secrets**

_A hand much too large to be human idly twirled a glass ball. "When you look into her future, Little Mage, what do you see?" a deep voice taunted as the orb was rolled between two fingers._

_A cloaked man sighed in anguish. "…I don't see anything…"_

* * *

><p><em>We request the honor of your presence<em>

_at the celebration of our wedding_

**_Doctor Jin Nakamura_**

**_and_**

**_Anissa Gabrielle Bonnaire_**

_Sunday, the twelfth of September_

_At 11 o'clock AM_

_Celestial Church_

"It's a _bit_ suspicious, don't you think?" Kathy asked smugly.

Molly rubbed the invitation between her fingertips: off-white, heavy stock, intricately embossed, faint hints of lavender scent. "I mean, I don't know… maybe they just finally decided to get it over with?" the brunette reasoned as she stared down at the pretentious curls of each letter comprising '_wedding_'.

"'_Get it over with'_?" Luna scoffed just as Kathy plucked the invitation out of Molly's hand to read it for the hundredth time that morning.

Molly had found herself suckered into a _brunch date_ with Kathy Talbot and the Martin sisters, Luna and Candace. What had intended to be a morning of casual gossip and niceties had evolved into vehement speculation thanks to the little white envelopes that had appeared in the mailboxes of each household in Castanet that morning. The temperature had been rising exponentially all morning, the air swelling with humidity. The heat made Molly almost-but-not-quite thankful for the presence of the Cloud that day; the idea of direct sunlight making it even warmer on the island was excruciating. The door and windows to the Brass Bar – empty save for the four girls seated at one mahogany table – had all been propped open, though it seemed a fruitless gesture considering the near-complete stagnation of the air.

"Most girls dream about their wedding their entire lives," Luna continued matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, two and a half weeks does seem a little ridiculous to plan a wedding," Kathy said as she held the invitation up to the light and squinted one eye closed, apparently searching for some kind of hidden message to confirm her cynicism.

"I-I didn't even know they were engaged," Candace observed in her meek voice. Molly had barely heard more than a few words out of the blue-haired young woman the entire morning, overpowered by the zealousness of Luna and Kathy. Molly, admittedly, hadn't felt much like talking either.

"_Duh_. Of course you didn't, Candace," Luna said with an exaggerated roll of her violet-blue eyes. "They weren't until the other day."

Candace seemed to shrink in her chair.

"You know, maybe they _were_, Luna," Molly contested, feeling unusually defensive of both Candace and the notably absent topic of conversation: Anissa. "Maybe they just didn't tell people right away because they wanted to keep it private."

Luna pulled a repulsed face at the notion but settled only on a meager grumble of, "Well, I _guess maybe_…"

"And besides," the brunette continued, "what does it matter if Anissa _is_ having a baby? She's, what, twenty-five years old? That's really not even _that_ young."

"Ohhh," Kathy groaned miserably. "Can't you just let us have our fun? I mean, I don't know what it's like in the city but things like this don't happen very often around here. It's scandalous. And it's not like we don't _like_ Anissa."

Molly sighed and rubbed the bridge of her freckled nose. "You're right," she said after a moment and tried to oblige her face into what she could of a smile. "I'm sorry." A headache was beginning to brew behind her eyes, growing progressively more noticeable.

"You know what we should do?" Luna's tone had shifted abruptly to a child-like excitement. "We should throw Anissa one of those… oh, what do you call them?" Her gaze landed on Molly, as if expecting the young woman to read her mind. "You know… one of those parties. I heard about them when I was staying in the city for a few months."

"An engagement party?" Molly offered, perplexed.

"No, no… a… uhm…" Luna lowered her head pensively.

"A bachelorette party!" Kathy spat eagerly.

"Yeah!" Luna squealed. "One of those!" She seemed quite pleased to see someone else as equally feverish over the idea; Candace appeared just as apprehensive as Molly.

"But you guys," Molly reasoned, "if she is _expecting_, wouldn't that be a little weird to throw her _that _kind of party?"

Kathy shot her friend a glare, to which Molly threw her hands up in surrender. "Would it make you feel better if we called it a 'pre-wedding party'?" the blonde asked, though this elicited no response. "Besides, I think it'd be nice to plan something special for her. We can have it here at the bar – I'm sure my dad won't mind."

"An all-girls night! This'll be so much fun, wont it, Candace?" Luna gushed to her sister. Candace managed a sick looking smile.

"I can get Chase to bartend. He's been bitching about wanting more shifts anyway," Kathy said.

"Oh great," Molly laughed, rolling her eyes, "a room full of tipsy girls – I'm sure he'll _love_ that." She paused, rethinking her own sarcastic statement. "You know, on second thought, he probably will."

There were snickers, followed by the question that Molly had been dreading, yet it still seemed overdue: "What's going on with you two, anyway?" It was Kathy who had asked it, staring at her glass of juice and sounding slightly awkward – as if the question had been burning on the tip of her tongue as she waited for just the right moment to make it sound casual, yet had waited just a little too long to pretend like it was really nothing more than an afterthought.

"What do you mean?" Molly fiend naivety as she too suddenly took great interest in her own glass of ruby red cranberry juice, already half consumed.

"You went to the festival with him. You two seemed pretty cozy," Luna purred. She lacked completely the subtlety that Kathy had at least attempted out of politeness.

"Yeah, I had fun," Molly replied stupidly.

Now it was Kathy's turn to throw subtlety out the window. "Did you kiss?"

Molly, taken aback, opened her mouth to make some sort of snappy remark but the words didn't seem to come out, instead fumbling over a string of, _"uhhh… well… he… uhhm…"_ until even Candace had begun to look mildly intrigued. "He kissed me, yes," she said finally.

Kathy's green eyes practically doubled in size. "Oh my god, Chase _likes_ you. I can't believe he didn't tell me. _T__hat bastard__!_"

"Well, you know how Chase is," Molly mumbled before objecting, "But that doesn't necessarily mean that he _likes_ me. It was just a date… and a kiss. Besides, I haven't really even seen him much since the festival since I've been kind of busy."

"You've been at Wizard's," Candace pointed out in her soft voice.

Molly, once again, looked surprised. First Kathy and Luna – now Candace too? "Well, yeah…"

"It's just that I-I've noticed you going there a lot the past few days," the blue-haired girl explained.

"He's been sick," Molly explained in a half-lie, "so I've been going around to see him and helping him out until he's feeling better."

"I-I'm glad he's feeling better. He a-always seemed really nice." Candace spoke more to her plate of food than to Molly.

Molly's eyebrows gathered in confusion. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I mean, the part about him feeling better?"

Candace looked up again with an expression that hinted she herself didn't understand either. "I saw him up in the Garmon Mine district this m-morning. He was coming out of the mines. I s-see him up there often lately coming out of the mines when I take my m-morning walk up there at sunrise. But he was gone for a-almost a week and I had been starting to worry…"

Molly, not knowing quite what to say, gaped. "What is he doing up there?" she managed to spit out, though it came across a bit more aggressively than she had intended.

Candace shrugged. "I-I don't know. I don't speak with him very often. He a-always looks so… upset though."

* * *

><p>Molly excused herself from the Brass Bar to return to her farm work not long after Candace's comment, though it plagued her mind like a bad dream. It had been five days since she had fumbled into Wizard's home and found him a bloodied mess, the morning after the Firefly Festival in which The Cloud had ripped open and never closed. Wizard, to Molly's knowledge, had not left the privacy of his own home since the supposed magic-gone-terribly-wrong incident – he still didn't seem <em>well <em>enough to venture all the way off to the Garmon Mine district even for something important. Molly had been making trips to the General Store and picking up his rations for him. What business could he possibly have in the Mine district, let alone in the mines?

This question eroded her like acid the entire day as she brushed and milked the cows and dispensed the feed for the livestock. It was like a seed had been planted in her mind and no matter how hard she tried to focus on anything else, it came right back to that in a vicious and endless circle. She grew angry, then upset, then resentful, then sad, then angry again. What had he been hiding from her? It had always been a rare sight for Molly to see Wizard outside of his home – in fact, the mandatory town meetings, the incident at her own home in the middle of the night, and their trip to Witch's house in the Fugue Forest were the only times she could readily recall seeing Wizard outside of his home. And yet Candace had said she saw him frequently in the Mine district in the early mornings. Molly searched her brain for any casual mentions of going to the mines that Wizard might have made in the time she had known him, but she came up short.

In the recent days she had spent with Wizard since his accident Molly had found herself growing quite comfortable and close to the man. He was peculiar to say the least, but fascinating, kindhearted, and thoughtful as well. He had spent the first three days since his accident in bed, sporting a makeshift wrap around his wounds that Molly had fashioned out of a cut-up old white t-shirt that had belong to Ian, in which she had spent many a night sleeping in (it didn't seem to hold the significance, what little it had to begin with, that it did before). Wizard had been especially weak and in no condition to be walking around, so Molly had found in the depths of the suitcase she had shoved under her bed an old deck of cards she had tossed in at the last minute, as an afterthought, thinking that if she came to Castanet and nobody liked her then she could spend her nights alone, playing Solitaire and dreaming about home. She had never expected the friendship and closeness that she had come to find on the island. It was bittersweet when she thought too much into it, so she did her best not to.

Molly taught Wizard Rummy first, to which he took a curious liking. It was Go Fish, however, that seemed to hold Wizard's interest. This was probably due to the fact that Molly, having fond memories of playing the game as a small child with her father, would get abnormally invested in each match. Her face would twist this way and that whenever she was forced to hand over a card and her voice would jump several octaves in smug excitement whenever she ordered him to _'go fish'_. Wizard, having become somewhat more expressive in the time since meeting him but still generally the expressionless and very much aloof man that she had grown accustomed to, would let slip the faintest hint of a smirk, until Molly found herself exaggerating each emotion – ever the fool – just to see him smile. And he did.

Over those days whenever Molly would mention the Harvest King or Goddess, Wizard would 'hmm' or 'haa' disinterestedly until she learned not to ask. He had promised to take her to the Goddess Tree when he was feeling better and that would have to be good enough for her. Molly, of course, hadn't realized he had been feeling much better until the statement that Candace had made that morning.

Afternoon came, bringing with it a plunge in temperature and a sudden torrential downpour that Molly had not only grown accustomed to, but grown to expect. Night cloaked the island in darkness as she settled into her seat at her dining table, staring down at a blank page in her typewriter. Folders and loose papers littered the table, offering no obvious signs of any sense of order. Molly had a report due in three days and had been spending so much time with Wizard that she had not only neglected to start the report, but had been shying away from her duties (aside from her farm work) altogether. Her mind, at that moment, was her biggest enemy; after a day of swearing she would stay away from him as some sort of gesture to imply she was feeling bitter and upset with him, she found him still occupying an inordinate amount of space in her head.

And so it was with great resentment that she grabbed her coat off the rusted coat hook by the door and plodded into the rain, fuming over how badly she wanted to yell at him for keeping secrets when she so desperately wanted and needed his help.

She didn't knock when she arrived, as she had learned not to bother, and found as expected the door unlocked. It was dark inside and droplets of water dripped from her clothes in a rhythmic _drip, drip, drip_ as she stepped inside. Wizard was nowhere to be found. He was, she assumed, resting in his room. With a frustrated sigh, Molly turned and flicked the light switch on, the single light bulb in the center of the main room flickering, with great effort, to life. The room was exactly as she had left it the day before: smelling of bold spices and cluttered with books and bizarre trinkets, yet somehow organized in its own disarray.

One thing, however, was not in its place: Wizard's crystal ball lay motionless on the rug, seeming to have somehow been knocked from its stand on the center table. This, for whatever reason, seemed to add to Molly's agitation and she grumbled to herself as she walked over to retrieve it. Without a second thought, she bent down and picked the cool orb – no bigger than a grapefruit – up.

It started as a prickling in the palm of her hand, escalating quickly to a burning sensation that ran down her arms and through the branches of her veins like electricity through a wire. The air seemed to suck violently out of her lungs and the inside of the crystal ball, clear just moments before, swelled with shades of purple and black. _"Nu måst ai lämam!" _a voice rang in her ear – female, shrill, urgent and not one Molly could immediately identify.

The orb hit the ground with a loud _thud_. As quickly as the pain had coursed through her, it was gone. She drew in a ragged, desperate breath, as if she had just surfaced from drowning. One shaky hand found the edge of the table for support as she stared down at the ball, lying clear and innocent on the floor.

"Molly?"

Her gaze shot up to see meet Wizard's. He was standing in the doorway to his room, dressed in a black cotton shirt and a pair of dark sleeping pants. A mess of white cloth was visible just below one sleeve, stained in spots with black from the half-man's half-immortal blood, long since dried. She was terrible at wrapping his wounds, but he humored her out of sheer kindness.

"Are you alright?" he asked with a look of concern. Had it been under different circumstances, she would have appreciated the expressiveness.

Molly glanced back down at the crystal ball in shock. Was that normal? Was she not supposed to touch his crystal ball – had it been cursed to only allow him to handle it? And whose voice had that been? She tried to formulate into words what had just happened, but that wasn't what came out.

"You went to the mines this morning!" she blurted in an accusatory tone. "You're hiding something from me!"

All expression that had graced his handsome features disappeared in an instant. "I am not hiding anything… from you," he said flatly.

"Yes, you _are_," Molly spat back venomously. "Candace said she saw you there this morning. Stop lying to me, Wizard. You promised – don't you remember?"

Wizard seemed to consider the young woman for a long drawn-out moment. "I was getting an ingredient… for our trip to the Goddess Tree," he said finally.

Molly's expression softened a bit, "You were?" before hardening again. "I don't believe you."

The man sighed a bit sadly. "Yes," he said. Walking over to a nearby counter, Wizard picked up a velvet drawstring bag – deep purple and freckled with painted silver stars – and reached inside. He produced an alien-looking root in his palm. "Potana root," he explained. Molly looked it over, her eyebrows lacing together. "I find them… in the mines," he elaborated impassively.

A sudden wave of nauseous guilt hit. "Oh," she said stupidly. "I'm sorry, Wizard." Drawing in a deep breath, she slumped miserably into the nearby chair.

Wizard paused, watching her for a moment before walking over. He picked up the crystal ball off the floor without incident and placed it back on its stand in the center of the table in front of her. Molly considered saying something, but stayed quiet. The unusual and unexplainable were becoming less and less surprising. She would tell him later, she decided.

"I think this is all going to my head, Wizard," Molly breathed, staring at the ground with a far-off gaze. "All this… all this _stuff_ that's happening. I miss _normal_," her voice caught in her throat, "I don't know if I even remember what normal _is_…" Her eyes squeezed closed, moisture threatening to leak out in a rare loss of any sort of composure. Molly had had more moments like that in her three months on the island than she had had in the past year in the city. It embarrassed her.

She felt a gentle hand on her leg, just above her knee. Blinking away her tears, she found herself staring down into Wizard's bi-colored eyes as he kneeled in front of her. His expression read a mix of perplexity and curiosity as he examined her face, as if trying to understand. Molly, without thinking, slipped off the chair and down to her knees in front of him, draping her arms around his shoulders and nestling her face into the gentle curve of his neck. It took a long moment, but his hands eventually found her back, the wetness of her coat from the rain dampening his clothes – clumsy at first, his hands confused as he tried to embrace her but not quite seeming to know _how_, before finding where they felt just right, like a jigsaw puzzle piece slipped perfectly into place.

Molly didn't know how long she stayed that way with him. He smelled like lavender and rosemary and she could feel the tips of his silver hair tickling her ear and hear his gentle breathing. He felt nice and, in some sort of twisted irony, being there felt _normal_.

"I miss it," she whispered into the fabric of his shirt, breaking the comfortable silence. "I miss the sun and the sky and the stars and not feeling like there's no hope." She paused and sighed. "I'm even starting the miss the city," she confessed. "I'm even starting to miss all the things I hated and was so happy to get away from."

"You can go back," Wizard said softly, pressing his cheek to the side of her head. "You can leave."

Molly fell silent again. "I can't," she murmured somberly. "I've dedicated my life to this kind of work and I can't just turn my back on this place..." Sighing, "Besides, I don't want to. This island… these people here mean too much to me now. I can't let them down."

They both went quiet now, pensive in their own private thoughts as they knelt together, neither seeming to know quite what to say.

It was Wizard who pulled away first, climbing to his feet. Molly looked up at the toffee-colored hand that was outstretched to her.

"I want… to show you something," he said softly, without emotion. Wizard lead her up the staircase across the room and onto the landing in which resided the massive telescope, positioned under a panel of glass in the ceiling. Molly watched as he peered through the lens, adjusting it ever so slightly this way and that until finally stepping away. He gestured to it without explanation.

"The stars," Molly breathed as she peered through the lens of the telescope. The rain had since ceased and through the water-streaked pane of glass, Molly could make out the glow of a cluster of stars, framed by the ragged edges of The Cloud where it had torn open days before. Through the telescope they were no longer just minute pin-pricks in the sky, but substantial heavenly bodies fixed in beautiful contrast against the blackness.

Back at the table, after having her fill of the telescope, Molly's wet coat had been replaced with a dry blanket and two piping hot mugs of licorice tea had been brewed up by Wizard. It was a surprising change of pace from the previous week Molly had spent doting over the half-man, but he seemed not to struggle too terribly much despite being obviously still weak from his injuries, so Molly did not interfere.

"Wizard... what was your childhood like?" Molly asked as Wizard took a seat at the table across from her. It must have been nearing midnight by then but Molly was in no hurry to make the long journey home.

Wizard stared down into his mug thoughtfully. "It… was a long time ago. Admittedly, I do not remember much of it," he replied.

Molly frowned in dissatisfaction at his response. "Your mother? Your father?" Considering how much of Wizard was still a mystery to her and that his circumstance of existence was not exactly _conventional_, it was an intrusive subject. Luckily Wizard didn't seem to mind.

"My mother… was a mortal woman. I do not remember her. My father… was a mage. I spent my first twelve years with him… I remember little of him now as well."

"Doesn't that make you sad?" Molly asked cautiously.

"No," Wizard said with a slight bob of one shoulder. "It was… almost a hundred years ago… Most of my life… many decades, I spent in Continent Flower… learning magic from my Master, until…" he trailed off, his graze growing melancholy and distant as if some painful memory was being projected on the forefront of his mind. The subject of his Master was one that Molly had remembered Wizard mentioning before, on their walk through Fugue Forest, though it too had ended in the same anguished expression that was never explained.

"_Until_…?" Molly prompted when realizing that Wizard was not going to snap back on his own.

He blinked the memory away and looked over to her with a gentle smile. "It is late," he said pointedly.

Molly did not argue, though she desperately wanted to, nor did she did not return home that evening. Rather, she settled into the warmth of Wizard's bed, drifting off to sleep to the fragrant scent of lavender and rosemary and the sound of him in the other room, starting on the potion they would need to reach the Goddess Tree.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I DISAPPEAR FOR WEEKS AND COME BACK WITH THIS FLUFFY TRIPE?! Ha!

But seriously, I'm really sorry for my absence. My muse ran away and my work schedule became even busier and the heat makes me lazy. I know - excuses, excuses. I'll try to get chapters up more regularly again for both this story and A Million Tomorrows. I took my third story, Under Gravity, down for the time being since it only had 4 chapters and handling three at once became too much. I'll hopefully reupload and continue it when I finish one of my other two. I also have a longfic that I've been dying to do that'd be completely from Luke's POV... But that's for another day!

I'm almost positive I've mentioned this before, but part of this story is based loosely on the Witch and Wizard's official little back story (with some notable tweaks). It doesn't matter if you've never read it since it will all eventually be described in this story anyway and makes up just one aspect of this overall plot.

This chapter feels rusty and for that I sincerely apologize. My writer's block isn't completely gone and I'm feeling pretty out of practice, so please bear with me while I try and readjust to this whole _writing thing_ once again?

Thank you _so_ much to everyone who left me reviews/support on my last chapter and this story while I was gone! :) Nova Edgewater, ThePersonWithTheReallyLongNa me, MayumiL, The Rune Reverend, Penumbra Inkwell, May, Accidentally The Whole Fanfic, Kazaazz, TheBoysMsTerri, Painapurru, KuraiNezumichan, and all the lovely Guests/anons!

I'm so glad people are enjoying this story. It really helps me to get motivated to write more when I see that people are actually enjoying it and I'm not just writing a bunch of nonsense that no one's reading just to fill my hours of insomnia.


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